


Adults but not Grown-ups

by LeDiz



Series: The 48: Pokemon [14]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime)
Genre: Adulting sucks, Adults, Awkward Conversations, Denial, Depiction of two grown women watching children's programming, Developing Relationship, F/M, Insecurity, Love selfish love, Trauma Recovery, failing to adult
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2019-07-08 19:36:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15936902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeDiz/pseuds/LeDiz
Summary: In which adults fail to adult, partners don't always communicate, and secrets are kept with varying degrees of success.A collection of excerpts from season two of Sun & Moon, of 'adults' failing to deal with the unfortunate facts of reality.





	1. Married people are just friends with lots of benefits

There was something strange about this.

Burnet was sitting on Kukui’s porch steps, coffee clasped between her hands and a blanket around her shoulders. She was watching Ash try to convince Rowlet a bath wouldn’t kill it.

When she’d first met Ash, and found Kukui had settled into this warm, domestic setting, she’d thought her part in his life was over. She’d thought he wouldn’t want to play footsie under tables or flirt over cocktails. No more quickies in bathroom stalls or steamy weekends in hotels. And if they didn’t have that, she’d thought, then they should have just been colleagues and nothing more… right?

After all, she’d thought this would feel awkward. With Ash here, there should have been boundaries and rules. And yet… last night, she and Kukui had gone to dinner. They’d gone to drinks. They’d had sex on a secluded little corner of the beach. And then…

Then she’d come back to his house, had coffee, peeled off her skirt and wetsuit and crawled into bed to sleep beside him. She’d fully intended to sneak off before anyone woke up, but when she’d crept out in search of a quick shower, she’d met Ash on his way out of the bathroom.

He’d blinked once, grinned, and said, “Hey, Professor! I didn’t know you were here. I’m gonna make cereal, you want some? Oh, wait, you’re a professor. I bet all you want is coffee, right? I’m not very good at making that!”

And suddenly she was spending Sunday morning lazing around Kukui’s house.

It should have been a lot weirder than it was.

* * *

 

The Annual PokeScience Conference wasn’t something Burnet attended very often. After all, while her research had the end goal of finding exotic pokemon, it wasn’t really about the pokemon themselves so much as the practical application of theoretical dimensional physics.

But ever since Newton had disappeared, their funding had been… well, difficult to source. So they’d needed the exposure. And nothing riled up a pokemon scientist like the possibility of meeting mythical pokemon.

So she dressed herself up, complete with an actual labcoat over her wetsuit, carted along a load of materials and visual representations, found herself a vendor stall, and set up her research presentation, intending to be approachable and charming for the entire seventy-two hours of the conference or die trying.

At the thirty-seventh hour, she was tired, frustrated, and her cheeks were aching from smiling so much. But none of that mattered, because a groups of strippers were approaching her table.

Or at least, she assumed that was what they were. There was no other reason she could think of for a painfully attractive man to be wearing a labcoat without a shirt, or a woman to be visibly wearing a bikini under hers. But then they stepped up to her table, tossed her politely vague smiles, and then started reading her brochures in interest.

It turned out they were Alolans. Having never met an Alolan before, it was new information for her to discover that the Alolan scientific community valued science over professionalism. Unlike most scientists, who would have taken that as an excuse to be rude and cold, for Alolans that meant forgoing proper attire in favour of whatever the hell you felt like wearing.

Except the labcoat. The labcoat was apparently non-negotiable.

“After all, how else do you look like a scientist?” asked the man without a shirt.

Burnet laughed, absently fanning herself with one of her talking cards. “I prefer to let my work speak for itself.”

“And it definitely does that! These concepts are brilliant!” he said, sweeping an arm over the stall before raising it behind his head with a laugh. “Though I have to admit, it’s a bit beyond me. I’m much more terrestrial in my research.”

“Oh? What’s your specialty?”

“Pokemon Battle. I’m sure you wouldn’t be interested, but we’re doing a talk later on type effectiveness and weather effects.”

Since there was only one of her, she couldn’t actually attend the talks, though she was kind of intrigued. She’d never been much of a battler herself, so she couldn’t really understand how you could devote a whole career to something as basic as battle science. And the idea of listening to this man talk theory at her was altogether too enticing. “It sounds really interesting, but unfortunately I can’t leave my stall for that long. Maybe you could give me a private presentation some time?”

The man blanched, and then blushed bright red and broke out into nervous giggles. “Y-yeah, I – I – uh, um, yeah! Th-that’d be uh… yeah! I – I’d like that.”

It was only later that she’d realised how much of a proposition it had probably sounded like. She went bright red herself and hid under her stall table for fifteen minutes.

 

* * *

 

As horrendously attractive as Kukui was, Burnet had expected him to be suave, smug, and good at picking up women left, right, and centre.

As it turned out, being horrendously attractive meant that he’d never had to figure out the whole flirting thing. Women just flirted _at_ him and he worked the aloof angle. So when he was interested and the woman wasn’t aggressive, things got… awkward. Like when he nervously approached her stall that evening and asked if she wanted to go for ‘licks’.

“I’m sorry, what?” She lifted her hand, ready to slap him, but held off in case she’d misheard.

“Drinks!” he yelped. “I – I meant drinks! I said lynx – I mean lick, b-but I meant jynx – I mean drinks!”

She stared at him dully, debating slapping him purely due to where his mind was apparently at. But then her eyes slipped down to his throat and collarbones, and her mind happily followed his. She forced herself to go back to his face. “Sure. But I’m buying my own.”

An hour later, after he’d drunk two beers too quickly after a day of eating nothing but canapés, things were getting either better or worse, depending on your perspective. He’d agreed to explain how he’d gotten drinks into ‘licks’.

“I like puns,” he explained. “I had this… line in my head. It was terrible and inappropriate, and the point is I didn’t say it, so you aren’t allowed to slap me now.”

“I’ll be the judge of that when I’ve heard what the line was,” she said over the rim of her martini. She was becoming enamoured of his collarbones. It should have been illegal for someone so intelligent to have collarbones like that.

He groaned but conceded. “I reserve the right to dodge if you do. Here it is: ‘So, are you a jynx? Because I’ve been _attracted_ by the thought of your _Lovely Kiss_ all day’.”

She snorted into her martini, and immediately regretted it because she was trying to look sexy. He winced. “It gets worse. I realised how sleazy it sounded, and thought that if someone said that to me and I wasn’t interested, I’d respond with ‘are you a lickitung, with all that slobbering you’re doing?’ to which I—I mean, the original me, being an idiot—would say ‘well, I’d sure like to Lick you!’ and then you would be absolutely justified in hitting me with a Mach Punch.”

Attractiveness be damned, Burnet hunched off to the side in a vain attempt to hide her too high-pitched giggles. She’d matched him drink-for-drink and eaten a single slice of toast for breakfast. Looking back on it later, the whole thing had been a terrible idea and so her ugly laughing was probably fair enough. “Oh, dear…! You’re terrible!”

“Which is why I don’t talk to beautiful women very often,” he admitted. “So… is this good night?”

She slowly lifted herself up and smiled at him. She wasn’t very good with puns. She couldn’t really flirt. And he was the most handsome man she’d ever met. But he’d just called her beautiful and he was even worse than her. “If you try running away now, then prepare to be stopped with some serious Fake Tears.”

Maybe it was her ego talking, but it looked like Kukui could have swooned.

 

* * *

 

She took him back to her hotel room, and it was pretty incredible, as far as drunken one-night stands went. When she woke up it was to find him rifling through her supplies in search of a business card.

“Uh – I hope you don’t mind, I just…” He was so terrifically inappropriate and awkward. “C-can I call you?”

“Uh… yeah. Yeah, that would be… nice,” she said. “But um… next time, maybe ask a girl for her number instead of just taking it?”

“Oh! Yeah. That… yeah. Sorry.”

 

* * *

 

And that was pretty much their relationship. They met up for a few hours every few months. They went through phases of exchanging emails that they really shouldn’t have been using their work addresses for—except for the fact that neither of them had enough of a life outside work to have a personal address—and phone calls that varied between professional and frankly too sweet for the relationship they actually had. Sometimes they talked science. Sometimes they talked about their pasts. Sometimes he came to Sinnoh, and made nice with the local Pokemon Professor. Sometimes she went to Alola and went bar-hopping with the local Joy and Jenny. Either way, they’d spend time at each other’s house, and it was… nice.

But to Burnet, it wasn’t _serious_.

“Kukui and I are just… friends with benefits,” she explained to her colleagues, when they raised eyebrows over her agreeing to go to dinner with another man. “We haven’t even emailed in weeks. Besides, you’ve met him. He’s _such_ a trainer. They don’t do serious relationships.”

Which was true. Kukui was, in every way, a product of the Pokemon Industry. He was rough, ready, and obnoxiously outgoing. He had no concept of long-term stability. The man lived in a _beach shack_ , for crying out loud. His idea of a long-term relationship was probably going on holiday with someone for six weeks. He would never settle down, never get married, and if he ever had a kid, there were pretty even chances that he would never know about it, because most of the women he probably shacked up with were probably just as flighty and independent as he was. Hell, he probably had a dozen kids already.

She wasn’t jealous of these probable mothers, by the way.

She did not spend mornings with Kukui thinking about them, wondering if she was just one of a dozen. Worrying about how she compared. Wondering if he liked her more.

She did not stay up late some nights thinking of Kukui and wishing he was more… That they could… That _she_ could…

Honestly, work was more important to her anyway. It was easy to focus on that. To just… throw herself into dimensional equations and chase rumours of phasal shifts and argue with that smug little assistant of Rowan’s about data sharing. To chase dreams and hopes of a scientific nature rather than get distracted with impossible thoughts of quiet mornings and warm nights and soft conversations about science and nature and…

And then Lusamine appeared on her front step.

 

* * *

 

Some days, Lusamine reminded Burnet of Kukui. They were both loud and obnoxious and just that little bit socially awkward. But where Kukui got tongue-tied and rambly, Lusamine just barrelled through until she’d broken everything and then wondered why she was surrounded by jagged shards.

A fact that was made blindingly obvious when their search for Ultra Beasts took them to Melemele Island, and professional courtesy meant they needed to drop in on the local Pokemon Professor, bringing the two of them into close proximity.

“It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Professor, I’ve heard so very much about you!” Lusamine said cheerfully, and then leaned in to nudge Burnet until she blushed. “I hope you don’t mind us bursting in on you like this, but our research is of very great importance and we really don’t have time to waste. Have you seen anything unusual recently?”

Kukui had obviously only just gotten home from school. He was still wearing his backpack. His stare shifted from Burnet to Lusamine, then onto Wicke and Faba before returning to Burnet. He took a deep breath, swallowed, and then nodded slowly. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be a little more specific. I’m a Pokemon Professor – we tend toward the unusual. Please, come in.”

It hadn’t been that long since she’d seen him, and maybe it was just the sudden proximity after actively not thinking about him, but something about Kukui looked… better than ever before. As he slipped off his backpack, she found herself staring at broad shoulders, and when he gestured for them to sit on the couch, her eyes lingered on his wrists and hands. They unfortunately slipped into his pockets when he stopped puttering around the kitchen to focus on them properly, and she was allowed a bit more mental space to pay attention to the conversation.

“Well, I’m not sure if it’s what you’re looking for, but my boarder did run into an interesting pokemon today. None of us at the school had ever seen anything like it. He’s out getting food for it right now.”

Burnet knew she should have been excited about the possible Ultra Beast—and so conveniently placed!—but mostly she found herself distracted by the fact Kukui had a boarder. He’d had them a couple of times in the past – usually students from the other islands who couldn’t make the daily trip to attend school. He always got awkward when there was a boarder around, not wanting a student to see him in a relationship.

Or whatever it was they’d had.

Which wasn’t something they had now. She hadn’t even emailed him in months, they weren’t… they were done.

They spent an hour chatting about Ultra Beasts and Ultra Space. It wasn’t even awkward when Kukui noted he hadn’t realised Burnet was in Alola, because Lusamine didn’t give them enough time or space to get awkward. She rushed through the whole topic, gushing about Burnet’s work and how she just _had_ to steal her away from Sinnoh’s research community, and look how well it turned out!

“Our very own Woman of the Year! And who could possibly be more deserving? Working so tirelessly on not only the Ultra Space project, but she’s also entirely incorporated Aether Foundation’s ethos of preserving pokemon!” Lusamine said cheerfully, slinging an arm around Burnet’s shoulders and yanking her in close. “She set up a new enclosure for water pokemon! It’s amazing, there’s _six_ different viewing points for us to study them without getting wet, but she of course just dives right in and swims around with them!”

If anything, the only time it even edged close to awkward was when Kukui was the one to bring up Lusamine’s daughter. Apparently Lillie was in his class. Apparently Kukui had sent Lusamine a couple of emails about it. Apparently those emails had gone unanswered.

Lusamine laughed and gleefully skated past the whole thing. “Yes, from all reports Lillie’s doing so well at the Pokemon School! Hobbes tells me that she’s really begun to open up lately. I’m so proud of my little baby! I’m so glad she’s taking her time and studying pokemon – her brother seems insistent on growing up too fast. But if you ask me, they’re both growing up too fast! Oh, how I miss the days when I could hold my little babies in my arms!”

“R-right,” Kukui said blankly, his shoulders slumping.

Honestly, Burnet couldn’t blame him. Lusamine was… Lusamine was something else.

 

* * *

 

At first, Burnet didn’t think about Ash too much. He was a nice kid, strong enough to stand his ground, and weirdly humble and down-to-earth for someone apparently chosen by the gods.

But then, after the first time she visited to check up on Nebby, she couldn’t help noticing the way Kukui… hovered. It was nothing obvious, but it was the little things, like the way he watched the kid from the corner of his eye, or sometimes stepped into conversations before Ash could respond. It made her consider the two of them a little more closely, and she started to realise…

Kukui was _such_ a product of the Pokemon Industry.

It wasn’t the first time she’d come across a parent and child that didn’t acknowledge each other as such, so she wasn’t entirely sure why it bothered her. Maybe it was the context. She used to see it a lot in Sinnoh, but you didn’t expect it in Alola. And even if you had, Kukui and Ash took it a little further than she would normally expect.

After all, Ash called him ‘professor’, and occasionally the full ‘Professor Kukui’. That was… weird. Even if he wasn’t willing to call him father, to refer to him by a title was… And if Kukui had to define their relationship for whatever reason, he always referred to Ash as his ‘boarder’ or ‘student’. She could kind of understand it when the other students or school staff were around – there had to be some pretence of objectivity. But at home? They didn’t bother with any other kind of professional distance, but they always kept up the titles.

And even so… Kukui had never mentioned him. In all the years she’d known him, he had never mentioned having a son. Which kind of implied he hadn’t known about him. Which… okay, not being a part of his life would have been fairly normal in Sinnoh, but for Ash to suddenly start living with Kukui implied they’d had some kind of relationship, and…

Ugh, it was all just too weird.

Now, she knew that the grown up thing to do would be to confront him about it. To ask about their history, and how Ash had wound up in Alola… but… that might have raised the question she really didn’t want to ask.

She didn’t really want to know who Ash’s mother was.

Was…

Was that woman still important to him?

Had it been more than one night?

Had she ever been important to him?

What was she like? Was she pretty? Was she smart? Could she cook, or clean, or keep a positive bank balance without relying on her employers feeding and housing her? Was she a pokemon trainer? Was she a pokemon _scientist_? Was she _better_?

Was Ash’s mother why he was so okay with her quietly breaking off the benefits to their friendship?

She couldn’t ask. She didn’t want to know.

So she didn’t. She didn’t mention it, or draw attention to anything strange between Kukui and Ash. She just… she just accepted it, like she should have.

It wasn’t her business anymore anyway.

 

* * *

 

For the first couple of weeks, she was pretty sure their whatever-it-was was done. That they’d officially switched to being colleagues and nothing more.

That lasted until the night Ash invited her to join the sleepover his class was having. When he ran after his friends to walk them home, she and Kukui watched the kids disappear down the road and then looked at each other.

“So,” Kukui said. “Thanks for sticking around. It was… it was good to have you. I mean – have you over – I mean –”

The grown up thing to do would be to tell him to shut up, and then ask him out to dinner.

Instead she grabbed him by the lapels of his coat and dragged him down into a sloppy open-mouthed kiss.

And that was pretty much the way it all started up again.

 

* * *

 

It took a while before she realised exactly what it was that felt so different about Kukui. He’d always been a little flighty and distracted, bouncing between two full-time careers and his fitness regime, but now there was a kind of… stability to him. He felt more solid, more secure.

There were always leftovers in his fridge – enough for a lunch or two. His emails and texts never came at stupid o’clock in the morning anymore. His clothes were always clean, his house was tidier, he just seemed more… together than she remembered him.

“It’s not a good thing,” he grumbled when she commented on it. “I’m not getting nearly as much work done these days.”

She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, considering. “Is the little work you’re doing of a better quality?”

“Who knows. The point is, it’s really hard to fit work in the lab around having another person in your house full-time,” he said. “If I spend all night in the lab and go straight to school, Ash _knows_.”

She giggled. “Aw, is big, bad Ash being mean about your workaholic tendencies?”

 “No, I mean… he’s never said anything,” he said. “But he knows, and that’s… not okay. Besides! If I left him alone to make his own dinner, he would! And my fridge would never recover!”

She just cackled at the stubborn bachelor making excuses for his having grown up.

But she did kind of like it. She even found herself adapting. Kukui sent her good night texts after he had dinner, which usually prompted her to call her own work to a halt and go in search of proper food instead of snacking until the early hours. That meant she went to bed at a reasonable hour, and was able to wake up in time to send a good morning text before he would have needed to go to school.

She worked less hours, but… she was more satisfied with it. Her results made more sense than when she spent pointless hours slaving over them.

She started swinging by Melemele every day. Whenever someone asked, she said she was going to have dinner with her boys, and everyone knew what she meant. It should have been weird, but it wasn’t. Ash started taking care of Munchlax’s meals along with his own pokemon’s. She and Kukui were having less sex than she’d expected given how much time they were spending together, but it was… still… really awesome. All of it.

Life settled into a routine and it was… nice.

 

* * *

 

“Oh, my goodness,” Joy covered her mouth with her hand, exchanging glances with Jenny. “Really?”

“He proposed with a pokemon pun?” Jenny asked incredulously.

“It was sweet!” Burnet insisted, maybe a little too loudly. She was maybe a little tipsy. Maybe. “Don’t you judge us!”

“Oh, we’re not! At all!” Joy cried.

“I absolutely am,” Jenny corrected.

“Then you can buy us the next round,” Burnet snapped. “I’m not telling you any more about my adorable dorky husband-to-be. Oh, god, I just realised I’m going to be a wife.” She slammed her head down on her folded arms, and her drinking buddies burst out laughing.

Most of her relationship with Kukui was so easy. So natural. When he’d proposed, she’d been thinking about how she was so happy and comfortable and in love with him and the life they’d so quickly developed. She hadn’t even had to think about it, because the question was whether she wanted to keep living this life and… of course she did. Forever.

But every so often it hit her that she was getting _married_.

She was so not ready to be married.

Married people were… responsible. They were mature. They… they had normal, stable lives and normal, stable desk jobs. They worked proper hours and thought about bills and could keep a steady balance in their bank accounts and didn’t go out bar hopping but did think seriously and carefully about having kids and the future and…

She and Kukui weren’t even thinking carefully about this whole marriage thing! They were just winging it! It was just… a vague plan to… she guessed… visit the registry office next weekend? And… and that would be it, right? It would be… happily ever after, and…

“Aaughh,” she wailed, and Jenny and Joy patted her shoulders with a complete lack of sympathy.

But…

But.

Whenever she thought about Kukui… about their time together, about the idea of being together, about the idea of growing old together…

She kind of couldn’t wait for that.

 

* * *

 

Kukui’s class were amazing.

They gave them a _wedding_. A perfect, wonderful, easy wedding.

She could have kissed them all.

The guest list included everyone she would have wanted. The dress was gorgeous. The setting was beautiful. The food was amazing. Even the pancake wedding cake was delicious and hilarious and seemed completely perfect for two irresponsible idiots like Burnet and Kukui.

“Did you know about this?” Kukui asked her, as they slow danced on the beach in the sunset, surrounded by their friends.

“Not a clue,” she said. “You?”

“I think it’s pretty obvious that I was the last person to know,” he pointed out, pulling her in closer. “I know this wasn’t what we had in mind, but it was pretty perfect, wasn’t it?”

“It was _wonderful_ ,” she said softly, and leaned her head on his shoulder. “If this is the start, I can’t wait to live the rest of my life with you.”

His chest puffed with a sudden breath of air, and only then did she hear herself and wince. “Sorry, that was pretty sappy, huh?”

“Maybe, but I was thinking the same thing, so…” He curled his left arm up around her neck, and she knew he was admiring his new ring. “Is it strange that I’m not scared?”

“I was thinking that too,” she said, and he huffed out another laugh.

“We really do think the same thing a lot, huh?”

She smiled and squeezed him tighter. “I’m really glad about that.”


	2. Dopamine in Twenty-two and a Half Minutes

There were definite pros and cons to completely ruining your life.

Lusamine sighed and rolled over onto her back, lifting an arm to rest it over her eyes.

Nihilego couldn’t make you do anything you didn’t already want to do. She knew that better than anyone. So it was _her_ who had attacked those children. It was _her_ who had run away. It was _her_ who had renounced everything she knew and loved to be one with the Ultra Beasts.

“Everything I knew and loved…” she whispered to herself. “What a joke.”

The Aether Foundation… it might have survived. Wicke understood enough to manage the company until either Lillie or Gladion were ready to take over, or the Board just put someone else in place. Her friends… what friends? She had subordinates. And even then, she’d trusted Faba and it turned out he was the one to hurt her daughter. Nothing lost there.

Lillie. Gladion.

She slowly opened her eyes and looked up at the ceiling.

They were both here, at Aether Foundation. Lillie was actively taking care of her, making sure she ate and rested and recovered. Gladion was hovering around the edges, learning about Aether Foundation and keeping an eye on her but never actually speaking to her. But he was still _here_.

After so many months, they were both here, where she could reach and touch and hold. Her babies…

Yes. There were definite pros and cons to completely ruining your life.

 

* * *

 

Hand on heart, no holds barred, truth be as truth was, Mohn had been the absolute love of Lusamine’s life… until she had kids.

Then he was still great and amazing and all that, but her babies were all that really mattered. They were so cute and lovely and sweet. She loved teaching them things, playing with them, seeing them grow and observe the world with all the wonder that entailed.

But then… one day… Mohn just… vanished.

He’d been researching Ultra Wormholes. That was her one single hint as to what happened to him.

“While it’s _possible_ he may have opened a wormhole and fallen through,” Faba said slowly, eyeing her over his tablet, “there is another possibility…”

“No, there isn’t,” she snapped. “We have to find him.”

Wicke winced. “And we will, Lusamine. Don’t you think so, Faba?”

He looked at her sideways, then closed his eyes with an imperious shrug. “I’m just saying there is the highly probable possibility that –”

“What else could it be?” demanded Lusamine. “Who else would have taken him away from me? We have to get into Ultra Space and find him!”

Wicke and Faba exchanged glances again and dropped the subject. After all, neither of them really minded Lusamine’s suddenly increased interest in work, and they were both as enthralled by the idea of inter-dimensional travel as she and Mohn had been.

So Lusamine threw herself into the Aether Foundation, getting grants, pursuing research, managing stocks to raise their capital, working tirelessly to learn more, find more, get closer to that wonderful, magical world where all her dreams were.

Her children didn’t understand. They acted like she was doing something wrong. But she almost expected that – children never really understood the sacrifices their parents had to make. Just like they _never_ understood the consequences of their actions. In some childish game, the two of them wound up getting into an accident with one of the research experiments. And then Lillie was suddenly terrified of pokemon and Gladion actually blamed the Foundation for it!

Lusamine pointed out that if they hadn’t been playing in restricted areas, the accident never would have happened, but that just made him angrier still.

“It’s like you don’t even care!”

“Gladion!”

“Whatever.”

He’d always been so _dramatic_. Lusamine didn’t know where he got it from.

Eventually, Gladion left in a pique of teenage angst and defiance. He _claimed_ he wanted to get stronger—that he was leaving to train—but after he left, they discovered he’d stolen one of their research subjects. Lusamine told everyone to just let him go – as long as he didn’t trade it away, it was still property of Aether Foundation, and he’d come back eventually. Sometimes, you just had to let kids be stupid.

Lillie was a… slower drift. With her new-found fears, she couldn’t stay at the Aether Foundation – there were too many pokemon around to trigger her sensitivities. So she went to the Melemele estate. She enrolled in the Pokemon School. She stopped calling to let her mother know how she was doing. A little selfish, but that was the wont of teenage girls, so Lusamine sighed at the woes of a mother dealing with her children’s angst and focussed on work.

They would understand once she found the Ultra Beasts. Once she could get to Ultra Space, and move between the worlds, they would definitely understand.

Everything would be okay if she could just do that one thing.

 

* * *

 

“I hate you!”

Lusamine rolled over, pulling the blanket higher up over her head as visions of her baby girl swam in front of her eyes.

Lillie… and Gladion… they’d come to rescue her from the Nihilego, but they’d both been so angry with her.

They were still angry.

She could see it in the way Gladion looked at her sometimes, and Lillie’s clipped tones. They were here and trying to look after her, but she knew they might never really forgive her.

For the life of her, she just couldn’t figure out _why_. Everything she’d done… it had been for good reasons, wasn’t it? She wanted to find Mohn. She wanted to provide for her babies. She’d wanted to save Lillie. She had been kidnapped by Nihelgo – but was it so wrong that some part of her loved the creatures she’d spent years trying to find?

What should she have done? Fought harder? Fought against that amazing, wonderful creature?

She had been safe there. Free from all the cares she’d ever had.

And those children had _stolen_ it from her.

To save her. They’d taken her happiness away to save her.

She pushed her temple deeper into the pillow, struggling to balance the anger, guilt, and gratitude in her head.

It was all so mixed up. She _was_ grateful. She was. She knew—academically, at any rate—that she had been kidnapped and influenced by Nihilego’s neurotoxin. It had influenced her mind, made her think she was safe and happy. If the children hadn’t rescued her, eventually it would have eaten away at her until there was nothing left.

But it was hard to remember that when all she could feel was loss for the contentment she’d had for those few brief days.

Especially now, when she couldn’t help seeing the disgust on Lillie’s face, and knew how angry her baby girl was. Maybe that disgust had always been there.

Maybe Lillie had never loved her at all.

Lusamine bundled herself up tighter in her blankets and wished Lillie had never met that stupid boy with the pikachu. If not for him, Lusamine would still be back with her sweet beasts and she wouldn’t care about any of this.

If not for him, she would still be happy.

 

* * *

 

A soft knock pulled her out of the mindless story, and she slowly lifted her head, pushing back the blanket so she could see a little better. Burnet hunched over to make it easier as she walked into the room and around the couch.

“Alola, Lusamine,” she said softly. “How are you feeling?”

She hesitated, glancing around. No one else was in the room to hear the truth of it. “Oxytocin and dopamine withdrawal are not my preferred kinds.”

“I’m not sure if it’s better or worse when you know it’s an artificial chemical imbalance, instead of a horrible breakup,” she said, and then glanced at the television. The Hoenn Rangers’ alter egos were discussing the like, totally unfair amount of homework their clearly evil teacher had assigned them. “You’re watching a teenage soap opera?”

Lusamine hesitated, debating making some excuse that wouldn’t fly when the remote was several feet away from her. In the end, she sighed and pushed herself up to sitting properly, bracing herself for more judgement. At least Burnet was an employee and would have to be respectful about it. “Hoenn Rangers: Dragon Force. A group of teenagers and their pokemon have been selected to save the world from alien monsters.”

“Oh, I think I remember this… and there was that movie a few years back, right?”

“It’s been going in one form or another since you would have been a child,” she said, and pulled her legs up in front of her, dragging her blanket further around her shoulders. “I find it comforting.”

Burnet paused before she answered, just watching the Rangers receive an alert on their wrist communicators. Their issues with the clearly evil teacher would have to wait – a monster had been spotted at the local library! She smiled. “Does everything always get resolved in twenty-two and a half minutes?”

“Except the overarching storylines,” she admitted. “Their teacher is going to turn out to be the big bad of this season. That’s going to take seventeen episodes to figure out and then another five to resolve.”

“But in the end, no matter how bad things get, everything always ends with a laugh,” Burnet summarised. When Lusamine glanced up from under her hair, she was honestly surprised to see Burnet looking not scathing, but actually soft and wistful. She even gestured to the armchair nearby. “I have some work to do, but do you mind if I do it here? I wouldn’t mind a few happy endings.”

“Oh… no, please,” she said, blinking rapidly. “If you aren’t making fun, I could… I could do with some company.”

 

* * *

 

After a couple of hours, in which Lillie came in, rolled her eyes at the fact her mother was still watching children’s programming, gave her some soup and bread, and then left again, Burnet eventually abandoned her tablet. First only in favour of her phone, though.

“Ugh,” she announced suddenly. “Why can men never just come out and say something? Why do they have to try and be sneaky about everything?”

Lusamine stared blankly, and Burnet made a face.

“Kukui is worried about Ash,” she said, lifting her phone. “But men, apparently, don’t talk about things. They just trick each other into revealing what’s bothering them. Honestly…”

“Something’s wrong with Ash?” she asked vaguely. She wasn’t sure she cared. The withdrawal was still making her blame him for all the love she’d lost.

 “Not as far as I can tell. Whenever I go over, he seems fine. But Kukui says that’s part of the problem,” she said, and rolled her eyes. “Is this a parent thing? Worrying about people who don’t need worrying about?”

The guilt hit like an arrow to her heart.

“ _It’s like you don’t even care!_ ”

Lillie had been so scared. So lost. She was angry now because Lusamine had been working so hard when Lillie felt she needed help. Gladion was angry because he didn’t think Lusamine had done enough for her. They both blamed her for not being there.

But Lusamine… Lusamine had figured her kids were old enough and strong enough to stand on their own. She’d been confident that they were fine.

She drew the blanket tighter around her shoulders and tried to focus on the television. From the corner of her eye, she was pretty sure Burnet was cringing guiltily, but neither of them said anything.

The Pokemon Rangers were only a little older than Lillie and Gladion (in the show, at least. The actors were definitely in their twenties). Never, in all of the hundreds of episodes Lusamine had ever seen, had they ever talked about parents. A few of them had siblings who made very rare appearances, but parents weren’t something talked about or needed.

She’d thought her babies were just as strong.

Besides, she’d been working so hard for _them_. To provide for them, to find their father, to – she’d left them alone for their own good, hadn’t she?

And she’d been right to do so! Look how strong her babies were. Look how they’d stood up. How they’d _crossed dimensions_. How they’d fought, so strong and so proud, in their own ways, to do what they thought was right.

Even if they hated her now… she’d done the right thing.

Her babies may resent her now, but one day, they’d look back and they’d see she’d given them the freedom to become heroes.

 

* * *

 

“Why the colour-coding?” asked Burnet. “Aren’t they part of the same team? Shouldn’t they all wear the same thing?”

“It goes back to the original series, when each of the Rangers had a type they specialised in,” Lusamine explained. She was sprawled on her side so she could reach the popcorn Burnet had put on the floor between the couch and armchair. “The red one was a fire-type trainer, the blue one a water-type, et cetera. In the second series, when they were still bothering with consistency, they replaced the actors but pretended they were just taking up the mantle of the previous ones, so they kept the colours, even though they didn’t keep the types.”

“But they’re Pokemon Rangers,” Burnet objected. “They use whatever’s on hand; they shouldn’t _have_ types.”

Lusamine raised her eyebrows. “Are you using real world logic on my fantasy heroes?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot reality is boring,” she said playfully, and Lusamine couldn’t help but smile.

“It was something to do with their stylers. They were special stylers imbued with the power of various types, or… something,” she said. “Mostly, I think it was just to help kids identify them, because names are hard. Instead, your favourite was the red one, or the yellow one, or… whatever.”

“That’s true… I never watched this as a kid, but I know my favourite was the blue one, because that was my favourite colour.”

“How dare you betray all of woman-kind like that,” Lusamine said dryly. “The correct answer for any young girl is and always will be either pink or yellow.”

Burnet laughed and held up a hand in mock-apology. “Oh, of course, of course! Then pink, all the way. Yours was… yellow, I’m guessing?”

She smirked. “If you’d asked me I would have said pink, but really I always preferred the Black Rangers.”

“He is the coolest in this series, at least,” Burnet admitted. “That whole anti-hero vibe. _Very_ mature.”

Lusamine couldn’t help laughing softly. The longer Burnet watched the show with her, the more comfortable she was, and the easier it was to joke about her comfort show. “And when you’re twelve years old, there is nothing more attractive than an anti-hero.”

“Twelve? I’m… considerably older than twelve and I still think anti-heroes are hot,” she said, and then pretended to fan herself with her hand. “Like the Masked Royal. He’s an anti-hero I’d really like to ‘ _enjoy_ ’.”

She lifted herself up enough to peer at her curiously. “What?”

“The Battle Royale champion!” she explained, grinning broadly. “His catch phrase is ‘En- _joy_!’”

“Battle Royale? You mean that pokemon wrestling league? You _like_ that nonsense?”

“Of course! It’s the only kind of battle I understand!” she said, flailing her arms out in front of her. “One round, you hit as hard as you can, and whoever hits hardest wins! Easy!”

“That’s true,” she admitted, huffing out a laugh. “So tell me about this Masked Royal. What makes him an anti-hero?”

Burnet opened her mouth, then winced. “You know, I’m not actually sure? I think it’s mostly his pokemon… he uses an incineroar, and you know what they’re supposed to be like.”

Lusamine pointed at her like she had made a legitimate argument, because “Similar to the Black Ranger in this series, who is really only an anti-hero because he’s grumpy.”

“Exactly. So hot.”

“ _So_ hot,” Lusamine agreed, and they both giggled at their own immaturity.

 

* * *

 

The teacher had been revealed as the big bad, Burnet was now sitting curled around a pillow and watching the screen a little too intensely for someone who was just there for the company, and Lusamine was legitimately feeling better for the first time all week.

But she was also feeling a little distracted, because in their quest to chase after the teacher, all five of the other Rangers had peeled off to fight various minions, leaving the heroic Red Ranger to face the big bad alone. He was determined—as all protagonists were these days—to save the teacher from himself and remind him of the good inside.

It was hitting just that little bit too close to home.

He even _looked_ a little like Ash. Black hair, sharp brown eyes, deceptively lithe frame and an easy smile. He was just about ten years older and wearing a bright red uniform as he fought for all that was good and right in the world.

She couldn’t picture Ash in red, for some reason. It seemed somehow wrong. But she didn’t think he would make a very good Blue or Green Ranger, either. Blue Rangers were always the smart or nerdy characters, and she’d yet to hear about him displaying anything resembling intelligence. He could have been Green, she supposed—the way Hobbes and Burnet occasionally went on about him he definitely had the sweetness down—but the colour seemed an even worse fit than the red.

But then, none of the kids who had chased after Lillie and Gladion really suited any of the Hoenn Ranger archetypes. Which probably went to show why archetypes didn’t work in reality. But in the show at least, there was always a girly-girl, a tomboy, a sweetheart boy that was trying to prove he was tough, a nerdy character, the over-powered anti-hero, and the fiery, arrogant protagonist that needed to learn his limits and how to work as a team. From all reports, Lillie’s classmates were all good at working together. They were all nice. And there were too many of them, besides.

Still, as they watched the Red Ranger empathise with the teacher about how he, too, got so very angry when people didn’t do what he wanted, but explained that forcing them to do what he said wasn’t the way to succeed, and that everyone can work together and learn from one another, Lusamine found herself trying to ignore the parallels. The easiest way to do that was by mentally picturing her daughter’s friends as Hoenn Rangers instead.

Except… they weren’t Rangers. All of them had their own pokemon. So… Alola Trainers, then. Saving the world from… something. Led by the charismatic and strong Blue Trainer, Ash, but with the beautiful Pink Trainer Lillie as their true heart. They would have occasional help from the enigmatic and aloof Black Trainer Gladion, who was stronger than Ash but not as invested in the day-to-day problems of the wider team.

She smiled, relaxing into the fantasy. Instead of the absolutely-not-Lance-what-are-you-talking-about Regional Champion, the Trainers would report into their own kind of Mission Control. Maybe that was where she could fit into this dream world. And the team support role, responsible for giving the Trainers their stylers and uniforms, wouldn’t be Dragonite, it would be… Clefable. Clefable would run the operational centre the Trainers worked out of.

And they would all look up to her, even the Pink and Black Trainers, as she led them on a quest to save the world from all that did it harm…

She dropped her chin onto her knees and let the fantasy carry her memories into the background.

 

* * *

 

After the day spent with Burnet and the Hoenn Rangers, Lusamine actually felt… better. She got properly dressed and wandered out into the Aether Foundation proper, eventually finding Wicke in her office, reading charts.

“Madame President!” she greeted her, smiling broadly. “How wonderful to see you! How are you feeling?”

“Much better,” she reported. “How has Aether Foundation been doing?”

“The Foundation is fine. I’ve been showing Gladion some of your work; he’s been doing very well! There are a few calls you’ll need to return when you’re feeling up to it, but nothing too urgent. There is -” She abruptly stopped talking mid-sentence, instead looking awkwardly off to the side to better avoid Lusamine’s gaze.

She waited, but obviously Wicke wasn’t going to continue without prompting, so she obliged, “There is…”

“It’s… it’s nothing,” she said, waving her charts to disperse the idea. “I’m not sure it’s something we should worry about anymore. Gladion asked me not to tell you – oh, oops,” She lifted a hand in front of her mouth with a wince. “I wasn’t supposed to even tell you that.”

She frowned and forcefully took the charts from Wicke’s hands. It took her a few moments to realise what she was looking at, but when she did her eyebrows shot up. “Ultra Wormholes are opening all over Alola!”

“Yes, but…” Wicke waffled a little, toying with her fingers. “Maybe we shouldn’t concern ourselves with that just now…”

“Ultra Beasts come through Ultra Wormholes! You aren’t suggesting we just let them roam over Alola?” she demanded, and Wicke’s wince turned into a cringe.

“Gladion believes he can take care of them on his own.”

“Gladion…” Through a fog of drugged memory, Lusamine remembered her son’s eyes in Ultra Space. She remembered how he’d lashed out, wanting to destroy it all. How many times, over the last few years, he’d insisted that they should destroy every Ultra Beast that came into their world. That was what Type: Null—Silvaddy—had been built for; she sometimes thought it was why he’d stolen it. All those beautiful beasts… She set her jaw and shoulders. “Gladion means well, but Aether Foundation was built to protect pokemon, even the dangerous ones. I’m sure we can find a way to send them back to Ultra Space _peacefully_.”

Wicke's whole body sagged with relief, and she pressed both hands to her chest like her heart needed the support. “Oh, I’m so glad you think so too!” she said, before quickly stopping to look up at her with wide eyes. “But… Lusamine… are you sure you’re up to it? Given what happened…”

She pursed her lips but had to agree with the point. “You’re right. I also don’t think we can trust Faba with the Ultra Beasts so soon.” She paused, considering. In truth, what happened with Faba had made her uncomfortable with any and all of Aether Foundation having direct involvement with the Ultra Space project. Wicke and Burnet were alright, and she was probably unavoidable, but the majority of people… Even Gladion. As much as she loved him, Lusamine knew he couldn’t really be trusted either. He was so angry—at the Ultra Beasts, at her—that allowing him to go out and confront the Ultra Beasts directly would be like sending out a ticking time bomb.

They needed someone who was strong enough to handle things went they went badly, but who didn’t _want_ to hurt her sweet beasts. Who would protect them. Who would…

The Red Hoenn Ranger flared in her mind’s eye. When she blinked and focussed on it, she remembered her little fantasy from the day before.

“Oh,” she said to herself, and then touched her chin.

Come to think of it, that wasn’t a half-bad idea.

 

* * *

 

When she’d initially pitched the idea to her subordinates, she’d expected everything from reluctance to outright derision, but even Faba looked intrigued by the concept. Wicke practically had stars in her eyes.

“A team of heroes! How romantic!” she gasped. “A group of young, passionate trainers coming together to help the lost and confused find their way home! It’s such a beautiful idea!”

“Those children are quite remarkable for their age,” Faba admitted thoughtfully. “And that boy who raised Solgaleo… to have him operating under Aether Foundation’s remit would be… highly advantageous.”

That, surprisingly, seemed to be the only thing that made Burnet pause. She frowned at him, then turned back to Lusamine. “While I like the idea in theory, and I think the kids would be really good at it, it _is_ putting them in direct danger. It’s actually _encouraging_ them to seek it out. There’s no way Kukui’s going to agree.”

 

* * *

 

“That’s a great idea!”

Lusamine and Burnet stared. Kukui punched his fist into his palm, looking off to the side like they’d solved a problem he’d been struggling with.

“If the Ultra Beasts are going to start appearing more often, then we will need a way to deal with them. And Ash—I mean, the whole class—will want to be involved,” he said. “This way, we can help them out. _And_ he won’t be able to hide what he’s doing,” he added more quietly to himself. Lusamine decided not to question that, instead trying to foster the enthusiasm while she had it.

Amazingly, he only got more excited as they described the idea in more detail, and he actually grinned when Lusamine confessed where she’d gotten the idea and showed him her preliminary sketches for the uniforms.

“I have to say, Kukui,” Burnet said slowly, still staring at him, “you’re taking this a lot better than I expected.”

He shook his head. “Whether we like it or not, Ash was chosen by Tapu Koko and raised Solgaleo, and the others went with him to Ultra Space. They’re the best people to deal with more Ultra Beasts coming through. I can’t stop them from getting involved,” he said. “But what they’re going to do isn’t safe, and it _shouldn’t_ be normal for kids their age. They shouldn’t think it's expected of them.” He looked down at Lusamine’s sketch like it was a triumph. “By making them a kind of team, by playing it up like they’re superheroes… we can give them the help and resources they need to do this safely, while also reinforcing the idea that it’s _not_ normal. That not everyone can do this, that they’re going above and beyond by even trying. And when they take off the uniforms, they can be ordinary kids again. If only this could have...”

Lusamine and Burnet exchanged glances, then shrugged. Whatever got him on board.

But then he blinked and looked up. “Hey, actually… if this is based off the Hoenn Rangers… are the team going to have a secret base? You should talk to Principal Oak – the school has an old emergency shelter underground that we might be able to leverage.”

“Are you serious?!” Lusamine gasped. “That would be perfect!”

She was going to be actual, serious mission control to a real live squad of young super heroes _and_ keep her sweet beasts safe.

Not a bad step to recovery, all told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I continue to make no promises. These are the only two ideas I really had until I figure out what they're doing with Giovanni and/or Faba.


	3. Love is a selfish emotion but you should never just take it for granted

It didn’t smell as strongly as the other hats.

Pikachu prodded the faded red cap on the desk, frowning at the difference. With how much time he spent clinging to Ash in some way or another, Pikachu had gotten so used to the smell of his trainer that he didn’t even notice it unless he went actively looking. So the softer scent shouldn’t have bothered him. It just…

Now that he’d noticed, it really did.

Normally, Ash’s hats reeked of them both. After all, in most regions Ash only really took his hat off to sleep, and Pikachu would spend days at a time perched somewhere on Ash’s head or shoulders, electrical pouches constantly brushing against the tough fabric. Here in Alola, Ash rarely wore his hat in Professor Kukui’s house, and would often take it off for school, and of course he never wore it swimming, which he did a lot more here, and since he didn’t spend days walking everywhere he wasn’t really sweating as much… so…. all of that meant the hat got less wear and much less… well, Ash.

And Pikachu hadn’t been riding his shoulder as much either. After all, at school there were other pokemon to hang out with, and since the team was usually out of their pokeballs, at home he would spend time with them. They didn’t walk as far as often, so it wasn’t like he was going to slow anyone down by not riding. And… and…

Pikachu pushed himself up onto his hind legs and picked up the hat, turning it over to frown at the inside.

They hadn’t been spending as much time together.

It was a strange thing to think, given how rarely Ash was out of Pikachu’s sight. Which was only half unintentional. Bad things always happened when they were apart. But the fact was that lately he _had_ let Ash out of his sight. Several times. For hours, even. And he hadn’t even thought twice about it.

And even when they were together, Pikachu was usually busy with the other pokemon, so he could ignore the human conversation. And Alola was so pretty, and the beaches were so much fun, and Team Rocket were almost never around so it wasn’t like he needed protection, and…

He would never _leave_ Ash, but… being in Alola made it easy to…

The desk chair beside him pulled out, and he looked up to watch his trainer sit down. Ash smiled, lifting a hand to rub Pikachu’s head. “What’chya doin’ there, buddy?”

He looked down at the hat, then back up at Ash, and explained that it didn’t smell right. Ash glanced at it in vague disinterest.

“Yeah, it’s not my favourite hat. But it’s okay,” he said, and then took it, turning it over in his hands once before slinging it over Pikachu’s head. “And it’s a great hat for you to wear!”

Despite himself, Pikachu had to laugh. It was true. This cap was lighter than the others, and the small brim made it easier to balance when his ears were back. He reached up to pull it down tighter over them, and asked Ash if he looked good.

“You look great!” Ash assured him. “Maybe when we leave Alola, you can keep this one, and we can both have our own hats!”

Pikachu froze, dread flooding through him at the very idea, and Ash tilted his head in confusion. “What? You don’t want it?”

That… it…

“Oh, sorry then. If you really don’t like –” Ash started to reach for the hat, but Pikachu reached up and yanked it down firmer over his head. He blinked. “Pikachu?”

It wasn’t that he didn’t like it. He actually loved it, especially lately. Ever since they went to the Dark Place, and he’d worn the hat during that super special Z-move they did – he knew it wasn’t really the hat that allowed them to do it, but it – it was a reminder, and… It was just… it was just…

He didn’t want his _own_ hat. They’d always shared.

“We always… share my hat?” Ash repeated blankly, and pulled back, obviously confused. “Pikachu, are you okay? You’re acting kind of weird.”

Pikachu hesitated, pulling the hat further down until it covered his eyes. Maybe he was being weird. But he’d been feeling kind of weird lately. Ever since Solgaleo left and didn’t say goodbye, Ash had been sad, and… Pikachu sniffed at the hat, breathing in the scent of Ash’s hair, sand, and sea air. He didn’t like that he had to be so close to smell his partner.

 Greninja didn’t have to be anywhere near him to feel close to Ash.

That was what he’d been thinking lately.

As the thought finally registered consciously, he tightened his grip on the hat and curled in on himself, tail flipping unhappily. He hadn’t thought about Greninja in ages. Even when Ash would go quiet and distant, and Pikachu kind of knew it was because Ash-Greninja was out there somewhere, he didn’t think about the pokemon that caused it. Because Greninja was in Kalos, and Pikachu was here, and he would never leave Ash, and that was what mattered.

But it didn’t really matter, did it?

Greninja was in Kalos, but Ash could be here, on the other side of the world, doing something completely different, and all Greninja had to do was call and connect right back with him.

Pikachu had to bury his face in a hat to even pick up a scent.

The hat was forced up, and when Pikachu peeked out it was to find Ash smiling gently at him. “Hey there, Pikachu.”

Ash tried so hard for him. Even in moments like this. And Pikachu…

Unable to help himself, Pikachu launched forward, hat flying backwards as he forced his way into Ash’s chest. Just like always, Ash welcomed him in easily with safe, comforting arms, and Pikachu snuggled in as tight as he could go. He wanted to stay there forever.

“Hey… hey, buddy…” Ash smoothed a hand down his back and over his tail, hefting him higher and bending down so he could whisper into Pikachu’s fur. “Come on. What’s going on, huh?”

He didn’t know. He didn’t know, he didn’t know, he didn’t _know_!

He just felt – he just – Ash was his! Ash was his trainer, his human, his – his Ash! He loved him so much! He felt so warm and comfortable and loved and he knew Ash would always be there for him and he felt so safe and so strong and so –

So…

Useless.

Ash’s hand on his back slowed, and then stopped as he came to a complete still himself. After another few moments, he opened his arms a little and Pikachu had to pull back too, though he kept his eyes down, a little ashamed.

“Pikachu…?”

He hesitated, then hopped out of Ash’s arms and back onto the desk. He picked up the abandoned hat and hugged it to his chest as he tried to explain.

The truth was, he hadn’t been a very good partner lately. He’d been leaving Ash alone or ignoring him… He hadn’t been working as hard to be strong… He hadn’t done a very good job at protecting his trainer at all. The only reason it hadn’t been a problem is because most of the time, nothing was going on, so he didn’t really have to.

But even if that was true, he should have been working harder, because –

Back in Kalos, he’d…

He sighed and tried again. Even now, he could admit to being a little jealous of Greninja. He didn’t like that anyone could be closer to Ash than him. And yes, Ash had once told him that Greninja would never get in the way of their partnership and he had nothing to worry about, but the fact was Greninja could transform into _Ash-Greninja_. They could see through each other’s eyes, feel each other’s pain, hear each other’s thoughts. How was Pikachu supposed to compete with that?!

And Ash-Greninja had been stronger, too – Ash’s most powerful pokemon in Kalos, no questions asked. Pikachu was still more reliable, maybe, but… not as strong.

Back in Kalos, Pikachu had kind of wanted to talk to Ash about it, and kind of not. He’d avoided it pretty easily, because… well… Sure, Ash was amazing and could understand a _lot_ of what he said, but… He turned and looked up again, trying to see if Ash was even following now.

It was always so hard to tell.

Most humans that could understand pokemon—or pokemon who spoke human—would repeat everything a pokemon said to them, just in case the pokemon wanted to correct the translation. But Ash didn’t do that so much anymore. So it was always hard to tell whether he knew what you were saying until he reacted to it.

This time, Ash didn’t speak at all at first. He just looked down at the cap in Pikachu’s paws and then lifted his gaze and nodded once.

“Yeah… sometimes it’s hard for us to really talk things out, huh?”

Pikachu sighed and continued trying to explain. He hadn’t wanted to talk about being jealous of Greninja at the time because – well, because he’d known it was dumb. He knew Greninja would never stop Ash from loving him. Ash loved all his pokemon. And Pikachu loved their teams too! He was so proud of all their friends, even Greninja! He wanted all of them to grow up strong and loved and happy, and he was so proud of what Ash could help them achieve, he just…

Sometimes he tried to use their teams as an excuse for why he wasn’t paying attention. Ash had other pokemon; Pikachu could have its own friends. That was fair, right?

“Right,” Ash agreed softly, but the support only made Pikachu scowl. He didn’t want Ash to agree with him right now.

Because even if it was fair, Pikachu didn’t have the right to… He loved making new friends. He loved watching them grow and become strong.

But Ash was still supposed to be _his_.

He didn’t mind sharing, but at the end of the day, no matter how cool or strong or powerful the other pokemon were, they were supposed to go—to _leave_ —and he would stay, because Ash was _his_.

And that wasn’t okay!

That was stupid and selfish and if he was going to be like that, then he should’ve been keeping a better eye on his human and not letting him ever feel scared or lonely or lost and –

A heavy hand dropped onto his head, and Pikachu looked up again. Ash just smiled, rubbing just that little bit too hard. “You know, you’re bein’ kinda silly about this, Pikachu.”

He clenched the hat in his paws, because of course he was! That was the point! He was being stupid and selfish and irresponsible and –

“But it makes me really happy to hear it.”

Pikachu stopped. And then he stared. Because… what? Ash just laughed shamefully, glancing off to the side.

 “It hasn’t come up so much in Alola, but… a lot of the time I worry, you know? All the stuff we go through, and Team Rocket? You’re in danger so much. Mostly ’cause of me screwin’ up. A lot of the time, I – I kinda think maybe you’d be better off with someone else. Someone who could take better care of you. Keep you safe, y’know?” He shifted to rest his other arm on the desk, leaning his cheek on his shoulder and still avoiding Pikachu’s gaze. “But the truth is, the thought of anyone else being your trainer scares me. I couldn’t do anything without you. I couldn’t go up against Team Rocket, or the League, or even the Trials. Not without knowing you’re there with me. Even when you’re not a part of the battle, I – I really dunno if I could do any of it without knowin’ that you’re gonna stick by me if I lose. Pretty lame, huh?”

Lame? Pikachu shook his head, because that wasn’t _lame_ , it was just – it was stupid! He would never leave Ash! They were partners! Win or lose, they were always partners!

“Maybe. But I guess it’s the same thing you’re thinkin’, isn’t it?” he asked, finally turning his eyes back to look at him. “I want to build up teams and get stronger. I wanna meet new friends, and get more pokemon, but I still want _you_ to be my partner,” he said softly. “Everyone else might come and go, but you? I dunno what I’d do if you ever wanted to leave. I really don’t.”

There were tears in Ash’s eyes. Pikachu shifted his grip on the hat to one arm and moved closer so he could push them away. He didn’t like it when Ash cried for him. Ash gave him a crooked smile and shifted his hand to rub Pikachu’s cheek, instead.

“Maybe we should’ve talked about this in Kalos, but… the stuff with Greninja… Look, Greninja’s important to me, and yeah, even now sometimes I need to connect with it in a way I can’t do with you,” he said. “But that’s that. It doesn’t change anything between you and me.”

Pikachu let his paw drop from Ash’s face, pulling the hat in against his front again. He agreed that Greninja shouldn’t have changed anything between them, but he still couldn’t help feeling like…

“You know how I know that?”

He really didn’t.

“Because of what happened in Ultra Space.”

Ultra Space? The Dark Place? Pikachu tilted his head, and then looked down at the hat. He held it out as he asked if Ash was talking about the super special Z-move.

“Exactly. The ten million volt thunderbolt,” he said, and then shifted so he was propped a little higher on his elbow. “When Greninja transforms, then… it’s like I’m in two places at once,” he explained. “I can kind of see two things, and I’m thinking two thoughts. Like, I’m where I actually am, doing what I’m doing, but I’m also fighting on the field with Greninja. And it’s really hard, ’cause I gotta kinda merge those things together or my brain sorta breaks, and my body stops working. It’s pretty bad.”

Pikachu nodded slowly. He’d seen that. It was why Ash had collapsed the first few times Greninja had transformed.

“And when I do a Z-move with the others, I’m connecting with them, and sharing power, and whatever,” he said. “But I’m still a trainer. I’m still watching what they’re doing. Still thinking about where they are and what they’re gonna do and whether they know what I mean when I tell them what to do. Lycanroc doesn’t really get it yet, and Torracat’s… well,” he added awkwardly, and Pikachu couldn’t help giggling a little because it was true. Lycanroc might’ve been the strongest on their current team right now, and Torracat had a lot of determination, but they both still had a long way to go in knowing how to battle properly. Rowlet _should_ have been a great battler, but it was just so sleepy all the time and it… anyway. None of that was what they were talking about.

Ash didn’t comment on the sidetrack, just carrying on with his point, “But when _we_ do a Z-move… especially when we did that Ten Million Volt Thunderbolt… it was _nothing_ like that. I never have to balance _anything_. It’s already balanced. I don’t even have to think. I don’t have to look at where you are or what you’re doing, because I already know. I feel you, I know you, I… when we did that move, I wasn’t in two places at once, or just watching a pokemon do a move. We did that move together. Me and you; partners.”

Pikachu hesitated, then shuffled his feet, thinking about it. He hadn’t yet. Not about the move. He hadn’t really had to.

Because of course they did it together. They did most of their attacks together, ever since that first time at the Pokemon Centre, when Ash had been on the bike to charge him up. No, even before that. The time with the Spearow. That first time he realised that they would both give everything to protect each other, Pikachu had given his attack his all, and there had been more to spare so he gave that too, and it wasn’t for ages after that he realised that little bit extra had come from Ash. Whereas now, he was so used to getting that little bit extra that he…

He looked down at the hat. He sniffed, breathing in the faint scent of his trainer. The smell he’d become so used to that he never really noticed it anymore.

The super special thunderbolt had been more power than Pikachu had ever felt, and even though he knew it was a Z-move, he hadn’t really thought anything of it, because even with all of that extra energy coursing through him, it… That feeling of knowing Ash was with him, that they would do it together, that…

That wasn’t unfamiliar. It was just… more than usual.

Ash gently tugged the hat away so that he could put it back on Pikachu’s head, where he tapped the bill of it down over Pikachu’s face, and then flicked it back up again with a playful smile. “I think you and me are so good at Z-moves because we’ve been workin’ together for ages. A cool bracelet doesn’t change that. It just made it a bit easier for other people to notice, don’t you think?”

Well… yeah, but… Pikachu frowned, struggling to hold onto his self-recrimination when Ash was being all comforting.

He shrugged. “I’m not gonna lie, I totally want to try a Z-move with Greninja when it’s transformed one day. The normal-type one… or I still really want to see the Z-move version of Aerial Ace. That’d be really cool, don’t you think?”

It… Pikachu had to admit it _would_ be really cool to see. Ash-Greninja could probably make it look really incredible.

“But even if it’s the coolest Z-move ever, no way it’s ever gonna compare to what we did,” Ash pointed out. “A Z-move so incredible that it _made_ a Z-crystal that just went away once we were done with it. What could ever stack up to that?”

Pikachu reached up and pulled the hat down over his ears again. It was a good point. The move had been pretty impressive. _They_ were pretty impressive. He was proud. Of the Z-move, of them, of Ash, of what he had with Ash, it was just…

Ash leaned down, folding his arms so he could lean his chin on them as he looked up under the cap at Pikachu’s face. “Pikachu, you are, without a doubt, the best partner anyone could ever have,” he said firmly, and then grinned. “I’ll fight anyone who says otherwise!”

Despite himself, Pikachu had to peek at him sideways, and then smirk. He would say otherwise. _Ash_ was the best partner anyone could ever have.

He laughed, closing his eyes in a broader grin. “I’ll make you a compromise then, buddy. _We’re_ the best partners. And no one else can compare.”

It was impossible to keep worrying with that smile pointed at him. Pikachu finally laughed, and agreed.

For a few moments, they just stayed like that, grinning at each other, but Pikachu’s smile faded as he remembered just what he really had here. He hopped forward and put both paws on Ash’s cheeks, patting them softly.

He was so glad Ash had overslept on the first day of his journey. He was so glad they’d found each other.

He would never, ever let his trainer go.

“Yeah,” Ash said softly. “I think we can be silly together, don’t you? We’ll build teams and have friends and help people get stronger, but you’re my best best-buddy, and I’ll be yours. Deal?”

Pikachu nodded. That sounded really good to him.

But, he added with a pointed twitch of his ears, he still wanted to share the hats.

Ash blinked, then snorted and knocked the cap back down over Pikachu’s face. “Tell you what: we won’t even do another Ten Million Volt Thunderbolt without you wearin’ this one.”

Pikachu grinned and knocked the hat back so he could see as he made the promise. They had a deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Technically I blame this one on all the commenters on a ficlet I wrote called Venting, but specifically coolpolarbear123 for recently (I've been asked before, I've just been in the mood to write lately) asking me if I'd ever write a sequel. Short answer no, because I really quite liked Venting where it was, and Pikachu is a bit difficult to write angst for. So this is as close as we're gonna get!  
> Also, it's something I've noticed in Sun & Moon - Ash will often speak to Pikachu only to find it's not paying attention to him. He's so dependent, and Pikachu is... not. I am absolutely going to make too much of that and you know it!


	4. Black, white, and too many shades of grey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Or, how Gladion learned to hate the complexities of adulting and just make his own story as he went along. Kind of. Oh, like any of us have been any quicker on the uptake.

Once upon a time, his parents had said, a magical dragon had appeared in the sky and spread its light over the cold, dark lands to give birth to Alola. The gods had blessed the people, and the people had cherished the gods, and that was how they gained the lush, verdant land they had now.

No complex evolution, or ravaged lands from volcanoes that destroyed entire civilisations but gave birth to new flora and fauna. No cavemen, no stone ages, no plague or death or disease, just a magic dragon that shone a pretty light and created a beautiful, fully formed world.

Once upon a time, a little boy had believed that story.

But Gladion wasn’t a little boy anymore.

Fairy tales were for children.

 

* * *

 

In stealing Type: Null, Gladion had made a decision to hunt down every last Ultra Beast that had ever come through a wormhole and destroy them. By doing that, he had rationally come to the obvious conclusion that he could stop anyone from ever getting hurt the way Lillie had. Which would almost make up for his failure to do anything at the time.

When Lillie was hurt, he’d been a defenceless child – there was nothing he could have done to prevent it, but part of being an adult was taking responsibility for things that weren’t necessarily your fault, and ensuring they never happened again. For some reason, none of the other adults in their lives were stepping up, so obviously he had to.

That would make up for how he hadn’t protected his little sister.

Ash Ketchum, who was the same age as him but far more of a child, looked doubtful. As they stood on Ten Carat Hill, Ash still with his hand in that impossible Lycanroc’s mane, he awkwardly piped up, “Hey, Gladion? I don’t really know what happened to you and Lillie, so maybe I shouldn’t talk, but… to me, it sure seems like Lillie wouldn’t want you spending your whole life hunting down Ultra Beasts. She’d much rather you… well… went and saw her once in a while. You know? She really seems to miss you.”

Gladion turned his head away. Children missed their family. Adults moved beyond them. “I can’t see her. Not until I can be sure I can protect her from every Ultra Beast there is.”

“So… you’ll never see her again?”

His head snapped back around. “What?”

“Well, it’s just…” He combed his fingers through Lycanroc’s mane, avoiding Gladion’s gaze. “I mean… sure, I get what you’re talking about. Wanting to protect the people you care about? I get that. Really. But there’s just… _so much_ that can happen out there. We don’t know how many Ultra Beasts there are. We don’t even know how many are in our world – forget about wherever they come from.” He hesitated, then visibly firmed up, his jaw clenching as he raised his gaze back to meet Gladion’s own. “I don’t agree with you that Nebby’s dangerous. It’s cute, and fun, and I love it so much. And if you try to hurt it—if you even try to try—I’m gonna stop you.”

Ash clearly wasn’t finished, but something about that statement froze Gladion’s thoughts for a second. For the first time, he found himself taking Ash one hundred percent seriously. But he didn’t have time to outwardly react before Ash continued.

“The thing is, Gladion, you say you’re gonna protect Lillie by defeating all the Ultra Beasts, but the truth is, you don’t know anything about them,” he pointed out. “And if you don’t know what you’re fighting, then how are you supposed to know when you’re done?”

Gladion blinked slowly. Even with this strange new attitude Ash had suddenly adopted, it felt very strange to be hearing this kind of thing from a weird kid that told stories about legendary pokemon, protective spirits, and couldn’t control his crazy, one-of-a-kind lycanroc.

It felt like the sort of thing a hero, chosen by the gods, would tell a lost soul in a storybook.

Almost as if he could hear Gladion’s confused thoughts and wanted to avoid them, Ash shrugged and glanced away. “Truth is? I don’t think you ever will be. And from what you’ve said, that means you’re never gonna see Lillie again. And sure, that might mean she’s a little safer, but… I don’t see how that’s supposed to make her happy.” He hesitated again, then sighed and lifted his hand from Lycanroc’s mane in a helpless gesture. “That’s what I think, anyway.”

What he thought, huh?

Earlier that afternoon, Gladion had asked Ash what his whole deal was. He’d appeared from thin air with an Ultra Beast he claimed was given to him by legendary pokemon, and a lycanroc like no one had ever seen before. And even before today, he had somehow made Gladion’s selfish, arrogant mother trust him. Even when it didn’t have very impressive results, Gladion had seen him command pokemon in a way that seemed almost supernatural. He had become friends with Lillie and helped her overcome her fears in just a few months. Honestly… sometimes Ash didn’t really seem human.

But he’d refused to answer Gladion’s questions, and instead insisted on a pokemon battle.

And through that battle, Gladion had seen a confused but loving trainer who still had a long way to go. At the time, he’d thought that was it – there was nothing else to think about him.

But now, as the sun slowly dipped over the hill, edging them into sunset… that confused, inexperienced trainer was nowhere to be found.

Gladion licked his lips, then abruptly turned back to the path away. “You don’t understand. This is something I have to do.”

Ash heaved a weary sigh, but didn’t otherwise object or comment, merely waved his goodbyes and demanded they meet and battle again. And as Gladion walked down the hill, back to the caves and his campsite, there was only a short pause before he heard Ash suddenly yell out that he had no idea how to get back home. He grinned despite himself.

“Not quite the hero the storybooks used to tell us about, huh?” he said to Umbreon, who yapped its amused agreement.

 

* * *

 

“I told you not to come.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, so Ash barely reacted to the accusation, still staring out across the canyon at nothing much in particular as four mythical pokemon performed some arcane ritual with the creature he’d been given by the gods. He didn’t even give the same response they’d all been giving since they appeared, insisting that burdens should be shared and they wanted to be here for their friend.

And the _way_ they’d suddenly appeared… when Gladion and Lillie should have been hurt by those falling rocks, that electro ball coming from nowhere… electricity somehow exploding falling rocks into little more than a shower of dirt…

Ash wasn’t a hero. He wasn’t some legendary story come to life.

But he sure seemed like one sometimes.

“You should have left this to us,” Gladion pressed. “This is my mother. Our family problem. You have no right to interfere.”

Finally, Ash looked around at him. For someone so loud, bright, and simple, Ash had some distressingly complex glances when he wanted to. “Nebby is my responsibility,” he said. “Solgaleo and Lunala asked me to take care of it. What happened to Lusamine might be your family problem, but it affected Nebby, and I didn’t stop it. So if it makes you feel better about me being here, then pretend I’m not here for you or Lillie – I’m here because Tapu Koko and the others can help Nebby.”

It was a blatant lie—a peace offering—but it was almost believable enough to work. So Gladion grabbed it with both hands and sneered. “You’d prioritise that _Ultra Beast_ over my mother?”

Something flashed over Ash’s face, the beginnings of anger, before he turned away again and just said, “I’m not doin’ anything like that. I just asked Tapu Koko for help with my problem. You could’ve done the same. Maybe it would’ve helped you first if you’d asked.”

Again, something in Gladion halted, unable to process the response. Anger was easy, though, overriding the simple logic, so he pushed it to the fore. “I’m not going to solve my problems by praying for some mythical pokemon to come save me!”

Ash balked, then shifted around to blink at him several times, completely and obviously blindsided. “What are you talking about?”

And as Ash stared at him, simple and stupid and young and heroic and impossible… Gladion realised he really didn’t know. Ash hadn’t prayed. He’d just had his hat stolen and asked a question, like he was greeting an old friend.

This wasn’t a fairy tale. The Tapu weren’t gods.

Maybe no one really was coming to save them.

Gladion really didn’t know what to do if they didn’t.

 

* * *

 

There was a lot more to running the Aether Foundation than he’d realised.

While he would never forgive his mother for abandoning their family, he was becoming increasingly aware of the sheer amount of time she would have needed to spend keeping their family’s professional legacy alive. He was being kept out of meetings, or maybe they were just being rescheduled, but there were contracts and decisions and reports and things he didn’t understand but needed to sign off on all the time.

In the back of his mind, he’d always kind of thought he’d take the Foundation away from his mother one day. Now he wasn’t sure he was up to the task.

“You’re doing very well!” Wicke assured him as she packed away the tablet full of legal decisions he’d just made on his mother’s behalf. “I know just how much this is to take in, and you’re picking things up very quickly, all things considered. You should be proud. I know your mother… will be,” she corrected herself awkwardly. “You know… once she’s… back on her feet.”

Back on her feet… Gladion stared at Wicke quietly for a few moments, then lowered his gaze to the table. “If she could be bothered to notice, you mean.”

“Oh, Gladion…”

Physically, Lusamine was fine. The doctor talked about chemical imbalance and pills and healing. But there were no broken bones. No bruises. Not even a scratch. It was hard to think of her as _sick_. Even when she’d been captured by that freak of a monster, transformed and frightened, she’s seemed… fine, physically.

Now that the danger had passed, he was having trouble finding the fear and sympathy he’d had when she was under the Ultra Beast’s control.

Wicke set down her bag and moved over to crouch beside his chair. He frowned, well aware that it was the kind of pose adults tended to pull when speaking to children. He wasn’t a child anymore. He was an _adult_. He’d just spent hours reading contract law and making legal decisions – she probably didn’t mean it that way, but this was really insulting.

“You’re still angry with your mother, aren’t you?” she asked gently. “It’s okay to be, you know. Her being sick doesn’t change the fact that you feel hurt.”

“She’s not…!” He stopped, then looked away. Lusamine had doctors, and was taking pills. That made her sick, right? At least in the simplistic, childish view of what seemed like everyone around him. “Lusamine wasn’t sick when she ignored what happened to Lillie.”

“You know, I’m not sure about that,” she said softly. “I think she just might have done a better job of hiding it.”

“Nihilego had never come to our world before it hurt Lillie,” he snapped, and Wicke hummed an acknowledgement.

“You’re right, of course. But while I do think Nihilego made things worse, I don’t believe it was solely responsible for your mother’s illness,” she said. “But I’m not going to make excuses for what Lusamine did. I think, deep down, she knows that she hurt you, and she does feel bad for that. I think that once she’s feeling a little better, and can make decisions again, she’s going to want to make things better for you too.”

Deep down… Once she’s better… Gladion scoffed. He didn’t understand how someone as smart and sensible as Wicke could be so naive. So childish. “She’s just selfish. She’s always been selfish, she’s never cared about Lillie. She’s not going to. And she sure as hell isn’t going to start giving a damn about me, either. And I don’t want her to,” he added, before Wicke could start offering up any platitudes about it. “I’m not going to wait around for her to start acting like a mother. I’m only doing all this because Lillie needs support.”

For a long few seconds, Wicke just gazed up at him in silence, before she sighed softly and stood up again. “I know it can be hard to forgive sometimes, and I don’t think even Lusamine will blame you if you can’t. But I’m afraid things aren’t always as simple as they seem in story books, Gladion. The adult world is very complicated.”

“You think I don’t know that?” he snapped, but Wicke barely acknowledged his anger with a glance as she stepped back to pick up her bag again.

“You’re entitled to be angry. But whether you like it or not, whether you can see it or not, I know Lusamine loves you. And one day, when she’s healthier, she’s going to try to apologise and make things better between you,” she said. She paused and turned just enough to look at him, those huge, innocent eyes wide behind her glasses. “It will be up to you whether you’re going to stay angry, or whether you’ll give her a chance. No one else can make that decision for you.”

“But you think I should just forgive her,” he said furiously. “That I should just forget everything she did to us, make believe that it was just this one time and things will be magically better?”

“Not at all,” she said. “You should never forget it, even if you could. Lusamine never will. That’s just how life is, Gladion. We all make mistakes, we all do terrible things. We all get hurt. And we all have to decide what to do afterwards. That’s all. That’s all I meant.”

Distantly, Gladion became aware that his shoulders were heaving, and both his jaw and fists were tightly clenched. He tried, but he couldn’t force himself to calm down. He couldn’t even think of anything to say.

“You did very well with the business today, Gladion, but there will be more tomorrow. It never ends, unfortunately!” she said with a short laugh, and then bowed before looking back at him with a sad kind of smile. “I’m going to get a good night’s sleep and get ready for tomorrow. I hope you do, too. Good night, Acting Chairman.”

And with nothing more, she turned and walked out, leaving him alone in the huge office, sitting in a chair that suddenly felt too big for him.

 

* * *

 

Some days, when the business was basically taking care of itself—or at least they were keeping Gladion out of it—he felt a little… superfluous. He wandered the halls, watching countless white-clad employees count, care for, and catch pokemon only to let them ago again once they were healed. The ones in suits discussed numbers and cases, while the ones in lab coats traded different numbers and words with more syllables than Gladion could follow. They were all ridiculously passionate, even the ones that were bored or doing gross, mundane work like cleaning cages.

Sometimes he’d go back to the mansion and try to find Lillie, but she was always busy. It was a little confronting, actually, to see his baby sister so… responsible. If she wasn’t bringing their mother food or medicine, or at least trying to talk to her ‘to help her heal’ (indulging her selfishness, Gladion couldn’t help thinking), she was studying Aether’s research on pokemon or Solgaleo. She only really had time for him at night, over dinner. She’d ask him about his day, and what he’d done, and honestly…

It was… painful.

He’d spent so long, so many years training to protect her, and here she was… fine. Without him.

He didn’t let the memory of Ash telling him she didn’t need protection come back, fighting it off with the reminder that he’d said she wanted him by her side. So obviously Ash had been wrong too.

“Big Brother?”

He immediately stopped walking out of the dining room, spinning around in case Lillie needed him. But she was still sitting at the table, playing with her fingertips, and didn’t meet his gaze. For a few seconds, they were awkwardly silent, before she smiled and shook her head.

“Mm-mm. Never mind! It… it isn’t important!”

Pushing back a wave of resentment, Gladion nodded once and turned to keep walking.

He wasn’t upset that his sister didn’t need him. Children clung to family, and he was no child.

It was just… every time he’d seen her before their mother was taken, she’d…

Gladion had just thought she’d cling a little bit.

 

* * *

 

When Lusamine sprang back, altogether too suddenly in Gladion’s annoyed opinion, her second decision (he wasn’t informed of the first) was to not fire Faba and hand him over to the police for kidnapping, child endangerment, and whatever the legal problem was with stealing a legendary pokemon and torturing it into tearing a hole in space and time. Instead, she just demoted him to being Wicke’s assistant.

“That's it?” he demanded. “You know what he did!”

“Yes, Gladion,” Lusamine said calmly. Despite a week of barely leaving her childish little blanket fort, she looked as elegant and arrogant as she always did. Lillie said she was still sick, and the doctors didn’t really want her back at work yet, but Lusamine was too self important to listen to them. For once, however, Gladion agreed with her – she sure didn’t _look_ sick. Just a little more tired, with Wicke and Burnet hovering at her shoulders. Faba himself was sitting in one of the chairs in front of the desk, looking far less contrite than Gladion felt was appropriate. He watched Lusamine from under his brow as she completely failed to explain her inane reasons. “I also know it was an accident, and what he did this time was a misguided attempt to fix that mistake. I know I want the chance to make up for the things I’ve done, Gladion – it’s only fair I give Faba one too.”

Gladion snarled, clenching his fists as he glared at Faba. “He was going to mess with Lillie’s memory!”

“To make her forget a traumatising event! If I could forget –” Lusamine abruptly stopped, lifting a hand to her hair as Wicke and Burnet reached for her. She lifted the other hand to ward them off, just taking a deep breath before speaking again, far more calmly. “We can’t change what happened. We can only move forward. And Faba is already helping –”

“He doesn’t deserve redemption!” he yelled. “He doesn’t deserve anything!”

“Gladion –”

“If I may interject,” Faba said abruptly, ignoring Gladion’s glare and Burnet’s annoyed glance. He only looked to Wicke, spreading his hands in further request until she nodded, at which point he brought them back together in his usual oily, sleaze ball way. “While Master Gladion is, as we all should be, focussed on the moral and ethical concerns, I wonder if perhaps approaching this from a more _adult_ perspective may shed a little light.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he snapped, but Faba only raised his eyebrows.

“Everything I did, however misguided I now see it was, I did to further Aether Foundation’s goals. Ms Lusamine wished to open a path to Ultra Space. I achieved this. If Miss Lillie had regained her memories, she would regain her memories of our illegal experiments. I did everything in my power to ensure she did not regain them prior to the Foundation becoming certain she would keep our secrets. My secrets primarily, perhaps, but also ours,” he pointed out. “The creature ‘Nebby’ was an unregistered Ultra Beast. Entirely outside the law, with the power to achieve our goals. My actions with it were technically legal. In fact, if it came down to it, Mr Ketchum would actually be the one the law would side against, when all was laid out.”

“What?!” he cried, but even Burnet could only grimace reluctantly.

“Ultra Beasts aren’t governed by current laws, and even if they were… Ash physically assaulted Faba,” she pointed out. “Legally, he should have either reported the theft to Officer Jenny or engaged him in a pokemon battle. He instead broke into our facility and tackled Faba to the ground.”

“To get back what turned out to be Solgaleo!” Gladion shouted. “Faba _stole_ a sun god from the person entrusted to raise and protect it!”

All four of them just gazed back at him silently, but it took a good few seconds before Gladion heard just how ridiculous that statement sounded. He pulled back a little but couldn’t find a way to make it more sensible.

In the end, it was Faba to speak next. “All things being good and fair, you would be right. As it is, however, this is the real world, and in it, I simply took an unregistered creature for experimentation and analysis from someone unqualified to care for it. I will also remind you that, however badly the situation turned out, I _did_ further that creature’s evolutionary process.”

Gladion scoffed furiously, but the annoying, _infuriating_ thing was… he wasn’t wrong.

“It is unfortunate, and while I appreciate the benefits this real world has given me, I will not deny that it isn’t fair,” Faba continued quietly. “Worse than all of that is that even if we left you children entirely out of the equation, to bring charges against me would bring attention to what Aether Foundation has done. It would bring attention to your Silvally.”

“What about it?” he asked, and this time it was Wicke to cringe.

“Creating life is… kind of… very illegal,” she said awkwardly. “We might have gotten away with it if we’d brought the Pokemon Professors on board, but we didn’t, because we didn’t want to answer to the League. And not to mention it was explicitly created to kill living creatures, which is… well…”

Lusamine took over with a soft sigh. “If anyone found out how Silvally came into being, we would all be thrown in prison, and everything Aether Foundation has built would be cast into ruin,” she said bluntly. “At very best, Silvally would be confiscated by the League, and you would never see it again. More likely, it would just be terminated.”

“Terminated…?” he breathed. “But it did nothing wrong!”

“And what did the Ultra Beasts do wrong, that we created something for the express purpose of killing them?”

“They hurt Lillie! They took you!” he cried, but Wicke winced again.

“Silvally came first, Gladion.”

He fell back a step, because… now he thought about it… she was right.

“It’s a complicated world, Master Gladion,” Faba said softly. “Sometimes we must take what we get, and be grateful for it. I know I am.”

Gladion gripped his head in both hands and took several seconds to just breathe. Things never worked out like this in stories.

 

* * *

 

Once upon a time, Gladion had listened to bedtime stories, and read story books, and dreamed of gods, heroes, and adventures, and everything had seemed so simple.

Mothers existed to care for their children. Fathers were there to protect. Little sisters looked up to their big brothers, who always knew what to do. When things went wrong, heroes rode in on dragons, wielding swords blessed by the gods, and saved the day before bedtime.

There were no legal contracts, no licenses, no grants or bills or ethical dilemmas. There was only one world, created by a shining god, and pokemon were magical creatures that humans trained for fun and love. Fathers didn’t die. Mothers didn’t abandon their children. Little sisters didn’t grow up to not need their brothers.

But in the real world, Gladion sat on the edge of Aether Paradise, flanked by a man-made abomination and a pokemon he’d only befriended because a human had been cruel enough to hurt it in the first place. He ran his hand through Umbreon’s fur, staring blindly into memories of him threatening to destroy the Ultra Beast that had eventually turned into something he’d once considered a god.

“Big Brother?”

He blinked, jolted back to the present, and looked around at Lillie. She was standing several metres back, but it wasn’t out of fear so much as respect for his space. Once their gazes had met, she gestured to the space on Silvally’s other side. “May I join you?”

“Uh…” He blinked again, swallowing a suddenly rapid heartbeat. “Yes, of course.”

“Thank you. Good evening Silvally; Umbreon,” she greeted as she came forward to sit down. “Where is Lycanroc?”

“Prowling,” he explained. “It does that sometimes.”

“Really? Ash never mentioned his Lycanroc doing that! I wonder if it’s the difference in their evolutions,” she mused. “Or maybe he just never mentioned it! I’ll have to ask him when I’m back at school next week.”

His back straightened slightly, his eyebrows rising. “So soon? I thought you didn’t want to go back before Lusamine was ‘better’.”

“I think she’ll be back to her old self by then,” she said. “The doctors aren’t sure, but they did say that she would be much better once she could get back into routine. And she seems very excited about whatever it is she’s working on. Besides, the doctors also said I should be careful not to devote myself completely to her health. I need to get back to my own life.”

He hesitated, not quite sure what he should say to that, and Lillie smiled.

“But I have decided that I’m going to keep in better touch now. I may not understand Mother yet, but I do know that I can’t simply blame her for every problem there is between us. If we’re going to fix our relationship, we both need to be better about listening and communicating,” she said, as if reading from a script, before she broke down a little in a guilty smile. “Though I’m not sure how we’re going to do that, yet. I’m hoping Mallow can help me. She’s very good at things like this.”

“Really, now,” he murmured, because that was pretty much all he could think of to say. He turned his gaze back to the ocean, and they sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before Lillie tried speaking again.

“What do you think you’ll do? Are you staying here?”

“No,” he said. “I need to get back to training. Especially now that Faba is staying. I have to be prepared for when he betrays us.”

“He might not.”

He stared at her, but she just avoided his gaze, looking down at her swaying feet. “Mother asked me, you know. She said that if I wasn’t comfortable with him staying, she would fire him, whatever the consequences.”

“Then why didn’t you –”

“Because he might not be all bad,” she said, and continued quickly before he could object. “You saw him when Mother was taken by that Ultra Beast! He was so upset! I really don’t believe he intended for any of this to happen.”

“That doesn’t matter! He –”

“It does to me.”

She sounded so firm, almost defiant, that Gladion stopped, and then sighed and looked away again. From the corner of his eye, he saw her clench her fists, still frowning at her shoes.

“It’s something I’ve learned this year. What we do matters, but what matters more is the feeling behind it. So even if you fail at something, as long as you tried your best, it’s something you can be proud of, and you can try again.”

“That has nothing to do with this,” he said. “Faba didn’t fail.”

“I think he did. I think he thinks he did,” she corrected. “But it’s something I’ve learned this year: even when you fail, even if you fail countless times, as long as you still want something you can keep trying. And eventually, you’ll succeed. So I believe that Faba really does want to make up for his mistakes. And I have faith that eventually, he will!”

He rolled his eyes. So childish and naïve… “You sound like Ash.”

“Well, I suppose I learned it from him,” she admitted, and when he glanced at her, she ducked her head nervously. “Is that a bad thing? I know you’ve been upset with him lately.”

“Upset…? I suppose you could say that…” He looked back out over the ocean, brow furrowing as he let his thoughts drift back to what he’d been thinking before.

Trying to make sense of Ash was hard. Especially here on Aether Paradise, where there were contracts, legal obligations, ethical compromises and financial obligations. Here, he couldn’t afford to believe in fairy tales or god-gifted heroes.

But then how else was he supposed to make sense of a boy that had been given a Z-ring by Tapu Koko, and raised what turned out to be Solgaleo? How else could he understand that incredible Z-move that split Ultra Space apart with lightning, all from a tiny little pikachu? Normal humans weren’t like Ash Ketchum. But…

“I trusted him to take care of you,” he said quietly. “And he failed.”

“You mean when Nebby brought me to your cave, and I saw Silvally?” Lillie smiled, lifting her hands to Silvally’s feathery mane as if to prove to them both that she wasn’t scared anymore. “That wasn’t Ash’s fault, Gladion.”

“Yes, it was,” he said stubbornly. “He was supposed to control that Ultra Beast and he failed. What kind of hero can he be if he screws up something as simple as that?”

“I don’t think…” Lillie trailed off, then frowned curiously. “I don’t think I know what you mean, Gladion. Ash helped us save Mother. If that’s what you mean by ‘hero’, then I definitely think he qualifies.”

“But that’s not enough!” he insisted. “Heroes are supposed to be strong and impressive! They don’t make mistakes! They don’t run around like idiots, getting all excited by nothing! They don’t lose control of the magical creatures they take care of!”

“Magical creatures?” she repeated. “You mean pokemon? But Ash is such a good trainer, Gladion. One mistake with Nebby that really wasn’t his fault doesn’t change that.”

He halted before he could verbalise any kind of answer, mostly because he wasn’t sure what his answer would be.

Pokemon weren’t magic. And he’d met the Tapu himself, so he couldn’t really think of them as mystical creatures. And it turned out even Solgaleo was just an Ultra Beast. There was no magic in the world. And yet…

And yet, Ash had appeared from nowhere, figuratively speaking, and done so much for all of them. He’d saved their mother. He had so much power. And what scared Gladion was that he couldn’t bring himself to trust Ash to know how to use that power when it mattered.

Because he wasn’t a legendary hero. They didn’t exist.

Ash was just a guy that screwed up sometimes.

Just like Gladion. But stronger.

“I can’t trust him to always appear out of nowhere and save us all,” he mumbled. “So if I want to keep everyone safe, I have to be just as strong as him. Stronger, so that one day, when he screws up, I’ll be able to save him. So I’ll train. I’ll train and get stronger, until no one can stand in my way.”

Lille stared at him blankly for a second, then giggled softly. “Now who sounds like Ash?”

He flinched, but then smiled and looked back out over the ocean.

It may not have been a fairy tale, and there may not have been gods to gift him with golden swords or dragons to ride. Things weren’t simple, or black and white, and they didn’t even make sense. He wasn’t sure there was a happy ending coming.

But this was 'once upon a time', and this was his story. He wouldn’t rely on anyone to save it. He’d be his own hero.

And one day, he’d make his own ending, happy or not.


	5. Communication is Key

It was late, and Kukui’s day had been somewhat… ridiculous. Having a double life had never been harder.

When all he’d had was professional relationships, his outings as the Masked Royal were just silly fun. A chance to dress up in a costume and let loose for a while, while keeping up his skills as a trainer.

Then Ash came into the picture, and suddenly it was like he was actually keeping a secret. He’d never told anyone but his best friend before, and his ego really liked hearing people gush about his other identity. Besides, as the Masked Royal, he was able to battle Ash as a ‘rival’. He was able to see the Ash his opponents must have seen. Still brave and kind, but with a steel rod of fiery determination that was frankly a little intimidating even for an opponent with a bigger, stronger, and more experienced pokemon.

In the quiet of his own head, Kukui could admit he was immensely proud of the kid he’d brought into his home. Battling opposite or alongside him as the Masked Royal was a kind of accomplishment he’d never felt before.

So he didn’t think twice about not telling Ash the truth.

But then… Burnet.

In all the years they’d known each other, casually not-quite-dating, he’d never told Burnet because it had just… never come up. She’d sometimes talk about the Masked Royal with fangirl stars in her eyes, but it wasn’t like she ever asked what he thought of the Battle Royale, or even who he thought the Masked Royal might be.

And then they were married. And he still hadn’t told her.

And then today had happened.

With the benefit of hindsight’s twenty-twenty vision, Kukui knew that when Burnet and Ash had pounced on him coming home and announced they were all going to see the Masked Royal, the smart thing to do would have been to say he was busy. Yes, he did have other plans to do with work and science and other things he couldn’t get out of. Or, if he’d been feeling like a legitimate adult, he should have quietly taken her aside and explained that actually, he _was_ the Masked Royal, so uh… yeah.

Instead, in his stupid, stupid present vision, he had figured he could make it work.

And then the Heels had properly abandoned the script and legitimately ganged up on him (he really despised the new ‘artistic direction’ of ‘honest emotion’ the Dome was promoting these days. They were _wrestlers_. They were there to entertain, not hold grudges!), and Ash had stepped up and been so _great_ …

But Kukui couldn’t say anything. Because supposedly, he’d been too busy ‘buying snacks’ to see.

He pulled the blanket over his head and promised himself he wouldn’t get into this situation again.

“Kukui!”

He flicked the blanket down just enough to peek out as Burnet hurriedly shut the bedroom door and rushed over to clamber up on the bed.

“Kukui, I’ve decided.”

“That’s nice,” he said wearily. She was bouncing a little. It was far too late and he was much too tired for more excitement. “Can we talk about in the morning?”

“No! No, we need to talk about this now,” she whispered, clapping her hands together. “I want to tell Ash first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Okay, then we can all talk about it together,” he said, and pulled the blanket up over his head. “Come on, Burnet, just come to bed. It’s late and it’s been a long day.”

“No, Kukui! Come on,” she said, and shoved at his shoulder. When he stayed under the blanket she bounced in mock-anger and then draped over his side. “I really wish you’d been in the stands with us today. The Masked Royal was so cool, and when Torracat jumped into the ring, Ash was so heroic! He just stared down those bad guys like they were nothing!”

Kukui grunted vaguely. Despite having been personally involved with the kids going to Ultra Space, becoming the Ultra Guardians, and their general adventures, she hadn’t yet seemed to realise that compared to what he was used to, the idiots at the ring today really had been ‘nothing’ to Ash. If Pikachu had been the one to get involved in the fight, it wouldn’t have lasted long enough to even be called a match.

“And when the other kids wanted to get involved and level the playing field by cheating, he and the Masked Royal were so righteous! So good and honourable! Ahh, so cool!” She squealed quietly, and Kukui had to smile into his pillow until she slapped his shoulder again. “I can’t believe you missed all of that!”

“I saw some of it on the screen at the store,” he lied. “Now come on – we can talk about all this tomorrow, right? Ash and the Masked Royal are still going to be cool in the morning.”

“I know! That’s the point!” she said excitedly. “Ash is so cool! And sweet, and silly, and nice, and –”

“If you’re leaving me for him, you should know that you’re competing with a Kalosian Master Performer and a Kantonian Gym Leader,” he drawled. “But hey, good luck with the cougar angle.”

“Don’t be gross!” she said, shoving his shoulder even as she giggled. “I’m serious! He’s really grown on me, especially lately. He’s a really special kid, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it,” he said. Another thing he could admit in the quiet of his own head these days was that there was maybe something to all the ‘Papa Kukui’ jokes he got in the staff room. Ash wasn’t just his boarder anymore.

“So, I was thinking I could adopt him. What do you think?”

He snorted. “I think his mother might have a problem with it.”

“He can have two mothers! That’s a thing that happens!” she insisted. “Besides, it’s really just one more step, right? A natural thing for me to do now.”

Kukui furrowed his brow, then slowly poked his head out of the blanket to stare at her. “What…?”

She stared right back. “Isn’t it?”

“What do you mean, a natural thing?” he asked. “Is this your way of saying you want to start a family?”

“No, I want to be part of _this_ family,” she said, and he squinted his eyes as if that would help him see her point better.

“Burnet, I’m really not following you. How is you adopting Ash in any way a natural thing to do?”

Her eyes widened, and for a moment she looked legitimately betrayed. Then her expression clouded, and she shoved away from him to roll off the bed and stand up. “Fine. I guess I won’t worry about it then.”

Okay, now Kukui was feeling completely lost. “Wait, Burnet –”

“No, it’s fine, Kukui. You’re right, it’s late and you have school tomorrow. I’ll let you get your rest.”

And then, without even glancing back, she marched out of the room.

The next day, with more hindsight, he realised he should have gotten up and hurried out after her. That they should have just talked it out then and there, cleared up all the misunderstandings, and gone to bed happy.

Instead he rolled his eyes, covered his head with the blanket, and went to sleep.

 

* * *

 

When he got up, it was to find Ash and all his pokemon already up and eating breakfast, which made Kukui quickly look around and check the time. He’d overslept. Not enough to make him considerably late, but he’d have to rush.

“Good morning, Professor Kukui!” Rotom chirped, flying out of the kitchen and around his head. “We were just considering going in to wake you!”

He grunted. “Where’s Burnet?”

“She already left,” Ash explained, and he raised an eyebrow. “She was acting kinda weird. Did something happen after I went to bed last night?”

“Not that I know of…” Kukui frowned, vaguely remembering their last conversation but just as quickly disregarding it. It had just been a silly idea – sure, maybe Kukui could have played along, but he’d been tired and frustrated with the situation he’d put himself in that day. He hadn’t been in the mood. “She’s probably got a lot of work to do. She’s been spending a lot of time hanging out with us lately, after all.”

“That’s true. It’s been loads of fun!” Ash said cheerfully, and Kukui smiled.

“I’m glad you two are getting along so well. I felt a little bad leaving you guys alone with all the work I’ve been doing lately.”

“It’s no big deal. Torracat likes watching the Battle Royales, so it’s not like I’d be goin’ out anywhere anyway,” he pointed out, and then stuffed the rest of his bread in his mouth. Kukui decided not to encourage him talking around it and instead got started on his day.

As Kukui headed around into the kitchen, noting with some annoyance that there was only just barely enough coffee left for one cup, Rotom floated after him with question marks on its screen.

“I find it surprising that you overslept, given how early Professor Burnet got up. Did she not wake you?”

“Obviously not,” he said, frowning at the carafe. He wasn’t even sure Burnet had ended up coming back to bed.

“That seems very strange,” noted Rotom, but any further conversation was cut off by Ash humming in an odd, loud, vague, and strangely pointed way as he stepped into the kitchen to put his plate and cup in the sink.

“Like Professor Kukui said, she’s probably real busy lately,” he said mildly. “And things’ve probably been a whole lot different for her since she moved in with us. Give her a break, you know?”

It was a legitimate point, but Kukui still found himself watching as Ash ducked back out of the kitchen and headed over to check on his pokemon.

For some reason, he felt like he’d maybe screwed something up somewhere.

 

* * *

 

Burnet had made Ash lunch. She had not done the same for Kukui.

If that wasn’t a hint, Kukui wasn’t sure what was.

“Oh, wow! Your lunch is so cute!” Mallow squealed as she peeked in at Ash’s lunchbox. “It looks just like Torracat!”

“Did Professor Burnet make this?” asked Lillie, while Lana held up a thumb in approval.

“Really cool.”

“Yeah,” Ash didn’t sound nearly as enthusiastic as usual, and Kukui noticed him glancing over at him. He blinked back, and Ash quickly looked away again to focus on the others. “How about you guys? What’d you bring?”

Kukui took the opportunity to slip out. There hadn’t been any food trucks outside the school today, and he hadn’t had a chance to make anything given how late he’d woken up, so if he wanted to eat he had to hurry to the market and back.

Obviously, Burnet was mad about last night. The question was why.

Honestly, he barely remembered the conversation. She’d been excited about what had happened yesterday, and gushing over Ash… and then… something about adopting him? And for some reason Kukui was supposed to have taken that as a perfectly normal thing for her to have suggested.

He scrubbed at the back of his head, already frustrated. Maybe this was her way of getting in on the whole Papa Kukui joke that it felt like half the island enjoyed. Like, ha-ha, if you can be Papa Kukui then I’ll be Mama Burnet, isn’t that funny?

No, he thought irritably. The Papa Kukui thing _wasn’t_ funny. He’d never seen any humour in it.

He’d never really had a problem with it, per se, but he didn’t enjoy the joke, and he certainly didn’t find the idea of her playing it up as ‘Mama Burnet’ particularly amusing.

Okay, yes, he could and would admit that he and Ash had a bit more of a familial relationship than professional. Yes, he was happy to admit he cared about the little idiot more than his other students. And yes, he was well aware that everyone on the island knew it. But it wasn’t okay. It wasn’t professional, it wasn’t appropriate, and it was only his good luck that Principal Oak found it funnier than he did problematic.

But he supposed Burnet wasn’t a teacher. And her higher education had been in a more formal setting, with dozens of students getting lectured by a professor she probably never spoke to one-on-one. Most people only remembered classroom schooling from elementary school, where teachers were supposed to be soft, parental figures to balance the academia. They didn’t understand the difficulties and boundaries that came with teaching adolescents in close quarters.

And besides, while he had Delia’s blessing, he still felt like he was pushing his way into a position he had no right to. Ash had never objected even unconsciously, but he also hadn’t given any indication he _wanted_ a father figure. Kukui had no right to play father, which gave Burnet even less right to joke about it.

Deciding he was definitely annoyed, Kukui scowled and resolved to talk to her about it that night. This wasn’t a joke he wanted to spread into their house.

 

* * *

 

All afternoon, Ash was suspiciously quiet, pretending to be focussed on his book work but shooting frequent glances from under his hair. It was enough that Kukui decided it was worth the risk of confronting him in front of the other kids to figure out whether he needed to skip his teacher responsibilities for the night and just deal with whatever was bugging his kid.

“Everything okay there, Ash?” he asked as the kids packed up for the night.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, swinging around to face him. “Yup! Totally. Totally fine. Everything’s absolutely fine.”

The other kids had paused to watch with varying expressions of concern or amusement, and Kukui didn’t blame even one of them. Ash had been _weird_ today. He folded his arms and shifted his weight onto one leg, giving Ash the unimpressed look that response deserved. “Let’s try that again, what do you say?”

“No reason to! It’s fine! I’m um – I just remembered! I haven’t called my mom in ages and you know how important it is to call your – I mean, how much my mom – I mean –” He flailed both arms and then abruptly spun around to snatch his bag off the desk and yank it onto his back. “I gotta go see you at home see everyone else tomorrow bye!” he yelled as he literally sprinted out of the classroom.

Even Pikachu, still perched on the desk, stared blankly after him, until it seemed to realise it was being left behind. It jerked in a full-bodied gasp while Rotom actually set off a panic alarm.

“Ash! You can’t leave without me! Wait, Ash! _Wait for me_!” it squealed, and both it and Pikachu hurried after him.

Kukui blinked slowly, then looked around at the other kids. “Do any of you know what that was about?”

“No idea,” they chorused, and he scratched the back of his neck, resigning himself once again to the knowledge that Ash Ketchum was a weird, inscrutable kid when he wanted to be.

 

* * *

 

With Ash being weird(er than normal), Kukui did briefly consider tracking him down, but ultimately decided he was better off just letting him freak out on his own time. Ash was worse than a clamperl when it came to things he didn’t want to talk about, and there was nothing he ever wanted to talk about less than the things that upset him.

Kukui was working on that.

He was almost finished with his lessons plan for tomorrow when his phone rang, and he fished it out of his coat pocket without pausing his writing. “Kukui here.”

“Oh, alola Professor! It’s Nurse Joy from the Melemele Pokemon Centre!”

He frowned, glancing at his desk calendar. Surely it wasn’t time for his pokemon’s quarterly check-up already…? “Alola Nurse Joy. How are you this afternoon?”

“Oh, I’m just fine. But I was wondering how _you_ were doing. How’s married life treating you?”

What?

Kukui put down his pen and sat back in his chair, immediately concerned. He didn’t have a bad relationship with Nurse Joy, but he wouldn’t have called them friends. She was much closer to Burnet.

Wait. Burnet.

Oh, gods. Burnet had gone complaining to her girlfriends about whatever it was he’d done wrong. Fantastic. He sighed and steeled himself for the rebuke. “It was great until today.”

“Oh? Did something happen?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” he asked dryly. “I assume you called for a reason.”

“Um… well, yes, actually,” she said awkwardly. “You see, Ash was in here this afternoon. He wanted to use our phones.”

Kukui frowned and sat up again. “Did he say what he’d done to our home phone that he couldn’t use it?”

“No… and he asked me to give Rotom a check-up while he did, so I was… a little concerned,” she admitted. “It seems he wanted some privacy.”

“Okay…” he said slowly. He wasn’t following this at all.

“Professor, I know married life is usually a little more personal to start with, but I thought…” Joy paused before continuing, “At the wedding, I didn’t get the impression you were expecting Ash to move out.”

Something very heavy dropped into Kukui’s gut, and he had to spend a few seconds dealing with that before he could respond. “We – _I’m_ not. Why would you think that?”

“Because he asked me how long I’d let him stay at the Pokemon Centre. He said it was about time he moved on, but he wasn’t quite ready to quit the school just yet, so he needed a place to stay on Melemele.”

He swallowed. “Is he still in the Centre?”

“No, he just left. But I got the impression he’s planning to come back tomorrow.”

“Right. Thanks for letting me know, Nurse Joy, but I need to go deal with this.”

“Oh, good. I was hoping it was just a misunderstanding,” she said, her relief perfectly audible. “Good luck, Professor! Please let me know how it turns out.”

He barely bothered with acknowledgement, already standing up and collecting his bag. He left his lesson plan where it was, more concerned with trying to figure out where this whole mess had come from. Things had been fine yesterday. Ash and Burnet were hanging out, and Ash had seemed okay this morning. It was only after lunch, when he seemed to realise that Burnet had done something for him but not Kukui. After that, he’d gotten sketchy.

It was Ash. Who tended to over-respond when he became aware of a personal failure. Who had spoken to Burnet when she was upset about something Kukui had said.

In his usual bull-headed, clumsy, martyristic way, Ash was trying to fix something.

Kukui swore under his breath and fired off a text message to Burnet, demanding to know what she’d said to him that morning, then focussed on getting home faster.

 

* * *

 

“You’re moving out?”

Ash froze in the middle of turning to greet him, his mouth still half-open and expression fixed. He glanced over at Rotom, and then down to the pokemon gathered around his feet, before he turned and set down the pokechow he’d obviously been about to pour so he could address Kukui properly.

“Um… so I guess Nurse Joy talked to you?” he asked, as Kukui very nearly threw his backpack down by the front door.

“She did,” he said. “I’m wondering when _you_ were planning to tell me.”

The pokemon all cringed, Lycanroc and Pikachu shifting as if to hide behind Ash’s ankles while even Torracat pulled back a bit. Rowlet, in typical fashion, barely seemed awake, but Rotom was a bit more noticeable with how it fidgeted in mid-air.

“Ahh… I think I shall go put myself on charge. Excuse me!”

As it zipped up to the loft and out of sight, Ash scowled, but quickly returned to meet Kukui’s gaze. Typically, he didn’t even look a little ashamed. “I only decided a couple of hours ago. I was going to talk to you when both you and Professor Burnet were home.”

“You only _decided_ today,” he repeated. “Right. And how long have you been thinking about it?”

He shrugged. “A couple of hours.”

“Ash…” Kukui pushed up his glasses to rub his eyes, trying not to be as annoyed as he was. “So… what? What’s your plan? You’re dropping out of the school? Going to Ula’ula, are you?”

“Not yet,” he said slowly. “I… I don’t want to leave school yet.”

“Oh, good, so it’s just the house you want to leave,” he said, and Ash frowned.

“It’s not the house.”

“Then it’s us? Me and Burnet?” he surmised. “Did we do something to embarrass you? Annoy you? What happened? We deserve to know.”

“Nothing,” he said blankly. “You guys didn’t do anything.”

“Then why leave?” he demanded. “This isn’t something you just decide on a whim, Ash.”

He blinked, and Kukui had to stop himself, remembering who he was talking to. This was absolutely something Ash would decide on a whim. He’d apparently uprooted his life several times in the last few years, often with little more prompting than someone suggesting the idea. Compared to his decision to stay in Alola, completely changing his travelling way of life for rigid schooling and static locations, leaving Kukui’s house was barely worth commenting on.

“Let me rephrase that,” he said finally. “Even you have reasons, Ash. Did Burnet say something to you this morning? Or the other kids at school?”

“No… I just…”

Before Ash could finish that statement, Kukui’s phone rang. He didn’t immediately react, still waiting for an answer until Ash started to look awkward.

“Are uh… are you gonna answer that, or…?”

He kept frowning at him as he pulled the phone out, only looking away when he had to check the screen. If it had been anyone but Burnet he probably would have rejected the call, but as it was, he flicked it open.

“Afternoon,” he said, lifting his unimpressed gaze back to Ash.

“Of course I didn’t say anything to Ash,” she snapped. “After how you reacted last night, I figured it was completely off-limits.”

“How I reacted?” he demanded. “What are you talking about?”

“Look, I know things are complicated with you two, I get that. But you’re both important to me, and I just – I just want to be…” Burnet stopped, and then sighed loudly before starting again. “I know you guys don’t talk about it, and I kind of get why, but leaving it all unsaid is not something I want to do. I –”

“So you want him to leave?” he asked furiously, and held up a warning finger when Ash started leaning purposefully toward the loft. “Do not move, Ash. We’re still talking.”

Ash scowled but obediently straightened up as Burnet objected in Kukui’s ear.

“Leave?” she repeated defensively. “What? Where would you even get that idea?”

“I didn’t; he did.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Ash has decided to move out,” he said, giving Ash a pointed stare. “I doubt that he came up with the idea on his own.”

“I imagine not! What did _you_ say to him?” she demanded. “You better change his mind!”

“You’re blaming me? _I said_ we’re still talking!” he added as Ash made another vague movement. He almost immediately regretted snapping, because Ash responded with an even deeper scowl, setting a broader stance and folding his arms like he was settling into an argument. Kukui had only gotten angry with Ash a couple of times, mostly in his capacity as a teacher and always when Ash had done something he knew was wrong, so that always made the follow up conversation fairly easy. But this time Ash probably thought he was doing the right thing, and now Kukui had almost definitely made things a lot harder than they needed to be. He grimaced and returned to the phone. “Look, obviously we all need to talk about this. When are you getting home?”

“I’m already leaving. If you can manage to hold onto your son for another half an hour—and believe me, I know that kind of responsibility is hard for you—I will be back and we can actually talk like reasonable human beings.”

“Fine,” he snapped. “See you then.”

“Fine.”

He viciously stabbed at the end call button, then stopped, her words properly registering.

‘Your son’?

In a tone that absolutely wasn’t a joke…

Oh.

Ohh… Oh no.

His gaze snapped back up to Ash, taking in the kid’s dark hair and eyes, barely a few shades off Kukui’s own. He remembered how Ash never actually talked about his parents without prompting, and the fact that Burnet couldn’t have possibly known that Kukui only met Delia Ketchum a few months ago. He thought of all the jokes that got thrown around the island, and how he and Ash acted sometimes… When Burnet had come back into Kukui’s life, he and Ash had long since moved past their awkwardness and settled into a life that felt like it always should have been. To an outsider… to Burnet… it probably looked…

Oh… Crap.

He immediately reopened his phone and flicked up the messaging app. ‘Just in case I’ve never mentioned this before,’ he tapped out as quickly as he could, ‘Ash and I aren’t related.’

And then he waited, staring at the phone blindly for so long that he could almost feel Ash’s resentment starting to burn. But he kept waiting, until finally a response flickered into the app.

‘what’

He cursed and typed, ‘He’s not my son’.

And then, ‘really’.

And then, just to drive the point home, ‘I met his mother for the first time this year’.

He barely had to wait another thirty seconds before the phone rang in his hand.

“Are you serious right now,” Burnet said the second he picked up. It wasn’t a question.

“On my honour as a teacher,” he swore. “And I had no idea you thought that. I am so sorry.”

There was a long pause. “You’re _not_ his father?”

“No, there’s no blood relationship at all,” he confirmed. “I’m so sorry I never clarified.”

She hesitated, then groaned loudly. “Ohh… I feel like such an idiot. You have to be kidding. How are you two not related?!”

He bit back the urge to say something that would immediately get him back in the bad books. But as much as he now understood everything—if Burnet had thought Ash was literally his son, then her wanting to adopt him and properly become part of the family made perfect sense—the feeling of boiling anger in the room was starting to feel almost tangible, so he glanced over at Ash and decided he had a different fire to put out right now. “I… would love to discuss this with you, and will, once you’re home, but I have to talk to Ash right now.”

“Oh, my gosh, yes!” she cried. “Yes, please! Ask him what the heck is going on and change his mind! Oh, my gosh, I’m such an idiot. Yes, go, talk, oh, gosh… I’m sorry, I love you, go, bye.”

“Love you too,” he said, and turned off the phone again. This time he lowered it much slower, watching Ash a little more cautiously. “We need to talk about this.”

Ash didn’t even blink, still furiously staring him down.

“Why don’t you finish feeding the pokemon and I’ll make us some drinks?” he said, and stepped into the house proper. “I think we could both do with some cooling off.”

“I thought you wanted to talk,” he snapped, and Kukui winced because he was pretty sure he deserved that.

“We’re going to talk. We just need to calm down first,” he said, and looked down at the pokemon. Pikachu and Torracat were both still watching him warily, while Lycanroc was actually cowering, tail between its legs and head down. He held out a hand toward them. “Sorry for the Fury Attack. I’m not mad at any of you – it was just a little Frustration.”

Maybe he caught the puns, or maybe it was just approval at Kukui apologising to his pokemon, because Ash only hesitated another beat before turning to pick up the pokechow again. While he filled the bowls, Kukui stepped around him and into the kitchen, where he could fill up the kettle and set it to boiling. Once Ash was finished and had prodded Rowlet awake enough that it was just the tension in the room that kept anyone from eating, Kukui took a consciously submissive step back and met Ash’s gaze again.

“So, let’s take a U-Turn on this conversation and start over. If you’re not leaving the school, why do you want to leave my house?”

The look Ash gave him told him he needed to cut back on the puns. Normally Ash enjoyed them, but evidently he wasn’t in the mood right now. “It’s the right thing to do. I should’ve done it last month.”

“You mean when Burnet and I got married?” he asked, and Ash nodded.

“I mean, it’s one thing when it’s kids getting married – they need looking after, I get that. But you guys are older, and older married people need to be left alone sometimes,” he said, like he was reciting something someone had told him. “I’m getting in the way.”

“You’re not,” he corrected. Ash’s independence and utter inability to sit still meant he was barely ever home – they didn’t see him enough for him to get in the way. “Where did you get that idea?”

“It’s why you guys were getting mad today,” Ash insisted. “Alone time is super important for older newly-weds, because there’s… you know…” He flailed his hand, either not knowing or not wanting to verbalise what newly-weds got up to. And honestly, Kukui was fine with that. He could get the idea, and it was nothing he wanted to talk to Ash about.

He pushed up his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose instead. “Did someone tell you Burnet and I weren’t getting enough time alone?”

“No,” he said defensively, his frown only deepening when Kukui looked at him from under his glasses. “No! Well, I mean… I knew I screwed up, since Professor Burnet was acting weird this morning, but I couldn’t figure out what exactly I’d done, so I talked to Mom about it,” he admitted.

“And she suggested you move out?”

“N-no… not… really,” he said, shifting in place. “She just said that might be the problem. She said now you were married, you might want to be alone with Professor Burnet more, and maybe the two of you were getting annoyed because I was… interrupting.”

Oh… boy. Kukui pressed his fingers into his eyes, then slowly dragged his hand down his face before readjusting his glasses and setting both hands on his hips. Thankfully, the kettle finished boiling before he had to come up with a response and he was able to focus on their drinks instead.

By the time he had made them both a Tapu Cocoa, he had decided he wasn’t going to bother dealing with the ‘frustration’ conversation. Sure, he and Burnet were a little less spontaneously romantic than most newly-weds, but he was pretty sure they were doing fine. They had a much bigger and more awkward problem to address. “Look. The truth is, Burnet and I did have an argument last night. But it wasn’t your fault. We definitely don’t want you to leave – I actually think that would make things much worse right now.”

Ash raised an eyebrow, and Kukui bluntly handed him one of the mugs. “Let’s go sit down. This is going to be a difficult conversation.”

Before Ash could even finish opening his mouth to answer, a soft chirp from the floor caught their attention. “Pi-ika?”

They both looked down at Pikachu, who was patting Ash’s leg in obvious concern. The other three pokemon were clustered together around their bowls, watching nervously, and Kukui suddenly realised Rotom was probably spying on them from the loft. He tried not to cringe at the mounting embarrassment.

“It’s okay, buddy,” Ash said, glancing up at Kukui before nodding to his pokemon. “You guys eat.”

“Pikapika?”

“Yeah.”

Pikachu hesitated, then slowly turned back to the others, and after another moment they began picking at their food. Compared to their usual lightning-fast and competitive inhale of each and every meal, it was proof that things were still more tense than awkward, so Kukui took a deep breath and started leading the way over to the couches. After a beat, Ash followed and quietly sat down on the opposite arm.

“What was the fight about?” he asked, and Kukui grimaced. It was a little direct and rude, but it was nothing he didn’t deserve.

“It… it was a misunderstanding,” he said. “One that seems to be happening a lot recently. I should have addressed it sooner.”

“A misunderstanding?”

“Yes. You see… I don’t know how aware you are of it, but a lot of people on the island forget that you’re my boarder,” he said, trying desperately not to sound as awkward as he felt. “They know you’re my student, but they often think we _live_ together for different reasons.”

“Different reasons?” he repeated. “Like what?”

“Like… family reasons,” he said, and then took a breath and forced himself to say, “they think you’re my son.”

For a second, Ash just continued staring at him, before he blanched so hard he almost spilled his drink. “Your _son_?!”

Kukui tried not to feel offended, or even get distracted by the fact he felt offended, instead continuing, “It turns out even Burnet thought that was the case.”

“ _Professor Burnet_ thought you were my dad?” he yelped, and again, Kukui had to stop himself from wondering why Ash’s apparent horror was bothering him more than the mistake had.

“Yes. I didn’t realise that, and so last night, when it came up, I didn’t know what she was talking about. I said what probably felt like very cruel things,” he explained. “That was why she was upset this morning.”

Ash just gaped at him.

“So now that I know, she and I can talk about this, and everything will be fine,” he said, and held up a hand to forestall an argument Ash didn’t currently seem capable of making. “She’s already said she doesn’t want you to leave, and I definitely don’t want you to leave, so please don’t take this as more proof you should go. You’re a part of this household. Burnet knew that when she moved in – obviously she thought that was for different reasons than it is, but she and I never expected anything to change for you after we got married. We _want_ you here.”

For a long time, Ash just continued staring at him blankly. When he finally did blink, and then pull back a little, the first thing he said caught Kukui a little off-guard. “You’re not my dad.”

Once again pushing down a weird spike of irritation, Kukui forced himself to smile and nod. “I’m not, no.”

“Why would people think you are?” he asked. “You’re nothing like my dad.”

“It’s not about… wait, you know your father?” he asked. Weirdly, asking about Ash’s father had never even occurred to him. Neither Ash nor Delia had ever once mentioned the man.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, and then abruptly perked up, lifting an excited fist. “He’s a pokemon trainer. He’s on his own journey – he has been ever since before I was born. His partner is Dunsparce!”

“Dunsparce?”

“It’s so cool! I’ve always wanted one just like it.”

Huh. That was… okay. Fine. Kukui hesitated, then put down his mug and sat back a little in his seat. It was oddly uncomfortable to hear about this. “It sounds like you look up to him.”

“Um,” he said, but then stopped, leaving the ‘not really’ unsaid. He winced, and then laughed, rubbing the back of his head. “I guess so! I wanted to be just like him when I was a kid. And I guess I still do, since we’re both trainers! Truth is, now I know more about pokemon training, I don’t really know! I guess it would depend on what kind of trainer he is!”

“You don’t know?”

“It’s been a while since I talked to him, y’know? And we never really talked about what he did. I’m not even sure he’s a battle trainer…” he admitted, and then frowned and shook his head. “But that’s got nothing to do with this. This is about me gettin’ in the way for you and Professor Burnet.”

“You _aren’t_ getting in the way,” he insisted. He hesitated, still feeling a little awkward and distracted by the tangent, then shifted down the couch so he was more sitting alongside Ash than near him. “Ash, this whole thing might have been about you, but it wasn’t your fault. It’s because Burnet made an assumption, and I didn’t listen. We didn’t talk. That’s on us. If anything, you being here has been a great reminder that people get along better when they actually communicate!”

Despite everything, Ash apparently caught the irony and huffed out a laugh. Kukui smiled and reached out to lightly shove his shoulder, though he kept a hold afterward, squeezing gently.

“I can’t stop you if you want to leave,” he said gently, “but both Burnet and I would be very disappointed if you did.”

Ash smiled back, but it quickly faded, and he lowered his eyes to his drink. After a moment, he asked, “People really think you’re my dad?”

Maybe it was Ash’s unusually quiet tone, or how he wasn’t looking at him, but something kept Kukui from his usual embarrassment. But he did release Ash’s shoulder and shift back on his seat, nerves making him awkward. “Some people. I wasn’t expecting Burnet to have made the mistake.”

“And you’re… really not mad about it?”

He quickly looked around, but Ash still wouldn’t look at him. He had determinedly fixed his eyes on his pokemon, but there was a light blush on his cheeks, making his quiet tone all the more noticeable.

“Even though people think that, you still don’t mind me living here?”

As he finally recognised the pleased blush for what it was, Kukui’s eyes widened, and he found himself grinning in response. It was a surprisingly hard task to not reach out and snatch Ash into a sideways hug, but he settled for reaching over to grab his own drink and take a sip before sitting back, immediately more confident. “No, Ash. As long as you want to stay in Alola, I want you here, with me and Burnet.”

Ash took a deep breath, and it was like it actually inflated him, pulling his shoulders back and a smile onto his face. But like Kukui, he didn’t immediately say anything, just turned and gave him one of his impossibly wide grins.

Thankfully for both of their prides, no one was around to see them spend what had to be the next minute or so just smiling at each other.

But eventually reality settled back on Kukui’s shoulders, and he had to grimace. “It is a bit of a problem with Burnet, though. I really shouldn’t have let it get this far.”

Ash blinked, and then frowned and hunched forward in confusion. “What happened, anyway? I don’t get what you could have said about you and me that would’ve caused a fight.”

“Ugh… now I think about it, it really shouldn’t have gone the way it did,” he said, pushing up his glasses to cover his eyes with one hand. “It goes to show that I have a problem with making my life more complicated than it needs to be.”

“Huh?”

Groaning at his own stupidity, Kukui explained the whole thing, finding Ash’s shock and responding cringes appropriately sympathetic. It was just a small misunderstanding, but it was about such an important topic that it was lucky they’d caught onto it the way they had. It could have ended (not that it really had yet) much worse.

That, in turn, made Kukui remember the other secrets he was keeping by omission, and made him sigh at himself. He’d never told either of them about Guzma, or his failures with the Grand Trials… and the other major screw-up yesterday: Masked Royal. What was this habit he had? When exactly had he started keeping all these stupid secrets to himself?

Still… all things considered, he had a feeling explaining about the Masked Royal now would just make Burnet angrier. Not only had he taken her imaginary stepson away, but he was also stealing her favourite celebrity; her fantasy crush. He couldn’t take so much away from her in just two days.

And Ash… he never complained, but it was obvious the lack of challenge in Alola grated on him some days. The Kahunas weren’t the ongoing challenge the Gym Leaders had been, and there was no champion for him to chase. Kukui liked to think the Masked Royal helped fill some of that void – he didn’t want to ruin that with the possible letdown that no, the Masked Royal was really just his teacher in a luchador outfit.

Besides, he reminded himself with a confidence borne of recent reassurance, Kukui had handled yesterday’s crisis okay. What could possibly be worse than that?

Now that the tension had properly dissipated, Ash’s pokemon relaxed, and it wasn’t long before Pikachu joined Ash on the couch, Rowlet returned to his backpack, and Lycanroc began bothering Torracat. They ended up watching the two of them playing, and things continued to calm down until Burnet suddenly burst into the house.

“Ash!” she cried, throwing her bag down beside Kukui’s as she frantically looked around for him. As soon as she found him on the couch, she lunged around to grab him around the shoulders. “I’m so sorry if I made you feel bad! Please don’t leave! We love having you here! _I_ love having you here! I hope I haven’t ruined everything, I’m so sorry!”

“Professor!” Ash yelped, blushing again as he was dragged into a proper hug.

Kukui chuckled and left them to it, standing up to get started on dinner. It wasn’t that long before Burnet joined him, and she curled into his side with an embarrassed grin. “Looks like I misunderstood something.”

“Looks like I cast Confusion on us all,” Kukui corrected, shifting one arm to squeeze her waist. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” she said, and leaned up to kiss his cheek before abruptly pulling back to give him a direct stare. “But seriously. You’re really not related? At _all_?”

“Not even a little,” he promised, and she shook her head.

“The impossibilities of the universe. You’re just so _alike_.”

He made a face, pulling back to stare at her in return. “I don’t know whether to say thank you or be offended.”

She just snickered and hugged him again, instead turning her attention to the vegetables half cut up in front of them. “So, what are you making? Can I help?”

“Sure. But first: Ash,” he called, making the kid look up from where he was playing with Pikachu. “Don’t forget the homework I set. Just because we had a talk doesn’t mean you can get out of it.”

“Sure thing, Professor! I’ll do it right after dinner!”

He raised a disbelieving eyebrow, and Ash cringed. “Or, um, maybe I could… get started now…?”

“Mm, maybe,” he said pointedly, and Ash reluctantly picked up Pikachu and dragged himself over to the loft ladder.

“Okay, fine…”

To her credit, Burnet managed to keep back her snickering until Ash was up and out of sight. And then she only pressed her face into his shoulder and mumbled, “Oh, come on. And you’re going to tell me you’re _not_ his father?”

“Shut up, that was one hundred percent teacher nagging,” he said, but she just hugged him one more time before breaking away to reach for the cupboard.

“Noodles or rice?”

“Noodles. And no more sass.”

“No promises,” she said with a grin. “So, you’re only a pretend dad, and I need to ask more questions, and Ash is way too quick to move on… anything else I need to know?”

Kukui glanced at her, once again debating all the things he hadn’t told her. Guzma, as far as he knew, was still skulking around Ula’ula Island and would probably never be a problem. The Grand Trial thing was just a little embarrassing, not important. And the Masked Royal…

Oh, it was just a fun little secret. If he could get through the last two days unscathed, what could possibly trip him up now?

“Nothing comes to mind.”

He’d tell her if it ever mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> In a return to the spirit of The 48, which is a collection of fics that are either unfinished or pointless, this is a small collection of fics poking at what in hindsight is all the same concept from different angles. I'll be honest: Season Two of Sun and Moon just didn't grab me like Season One, but I hope we all had some fun with it anyway.


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